


Coming Home

by oxygenlove



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Jongin is English, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slice of Life, Smut, date fic!, kyungsoo is whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-09-28 12:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxygenlove/pseuds/oxygenlove
Summary: Kyungsoo misses Gwangju. Jongin misses Berkhamsted. Thankfully, they meet in Seoul.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> reveals for [best days](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/BestDaysKaisooFest/works/20711582) is finally here! this was supposed to be a short cute date fic but it took on a life of its own when i was writing it. i got a liiiiiiil carried away haha. it's still a date fic, only longer. that said, a word of warning! this is not beta'd. it's very very rough around the edges (and all over too tbh) so i apologize in advance. tenses and i are mortal enemies :( any and all mistakes are mine. nevertheless, please enjoy!
> 
> ** set to the song [how long will i love you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSgU0gNL2Ac) from the about time ost

Seoul is beautiful this time of the year, when the cherry blossom trees that line the roads are in full bloom, pink petals billowing in the soft morning breeze as they spiral down to the ground that is barely just-free of white snow. This early in April, the wind still carries a familiar chill that is marked by random bouts of spring rain. It's not winter anymore, no. It's not so much the weather as it is the atmosphere. People dress brighter, their smiles wider. They carry a certain excitement in their steps as they go about, no longer huddled like packs of scared animals in the cold bundled up in thick coats and wool scarves. These days, people wear dresses, skirts, camisoles. They wear chinos and light button ups, simple shirts and bright corduroy pants. Spring is in the air and truthfully, honestly - Kyungsoo hates every second of it.

He hates it because it reminds him of home back in Gwangju where his mother grows flowers in pots up in their apartment, a sizable collection of roses in different colors and orchids of many variations, of narcissus, hyacinths and freesias that she cultivates in the heat of summers and tends to through the chill of autumns and winters. And when spring rolls around, all her hard work blooms into assorted beautiful flowers that she gathers up to bring to his father's studio where he paints for a living. Most times, his father would drop whatever piece he was working on and prepare a fresh canvas to paint a quick rendition of the year's spring bouquet. By next morning, Kyungsoo wakes up to the freshly painted flowers on top of the mantel where its beauty can be admired through out the whole house, the true fresh flowers in a vase directly below it.

Spring for Kyungsoo means flowers and flowers mean his mother and father. He misses them both.

Out here in Seoul, hours away from them, Kyungsoo's April doesn't truly feel like spring. No, sadly, not at all.

It's Friday night. The commons has a few stragglers but most of the residents are either out in the trendy spots in Hongdae or the students back at the main library for their weekend marathon of studying. Kyungsoo finds himself in neither places as he walks along the corridor to his apartment on the 5th floor, the brightly lit walls and CCTV camera lights blinking at him as he passes by.

Kyungsoo fishes his key card from his pocket as he arrives in front of his door, trying his best to balance the cartons of leftover food from his department meeting in his arms as he presses the card to the door lock. He managed to sneak out a few of the fried chicken and tangsuyuk boxes past the upperclassmen who have been hovering around the food table by the backdoor. It's a good thing Baekhyun is part of the Food and Drinks Committee or he would have only gone home with the soggy ham and cheese sandwich they handed around during the afternoon. Kyungsoo didn't finish his share because it tasted like sawdust.

A beep signals the door opening as it swings, Kyungsoo stepping inside to toe off his gray sneakers by the door while simultaneously reaching to the wall to slot his card for power which means Jongin isn't back yet from the library. Kyungsoo cranes his neck at the wall clock they have on the far side of the room, squinting to see the hands saying it's almost 9 o'clock.

Usually, the younger would be home by now, sitting on his side of the room on his desk, typing away on his macbook with a pen and a notebook by his side, hair falling like cascade waterfalls down his forehead, framing his face like a halo. Jongin likes being old school. He prefers books over epubs, printed paper over slides. He says the feeling of turning pages and the smell of paper helps him focus and adds an added layer of involvement with the course material than simply seeing it on a screen. It's charming and Kyungsoo agrees but Kyungsoo is also lazy and is here on Yonsei hanging by a thin string through some god-driven miracle so he doesn't really share the same enthusiasm his roommate has for studying.

With his card keyed in and the door shut close behind him, shoes to his left and the lights on, Kyungsoo brings the boxes of food to the kitchen counter and on the same step, places his backpack on his desk by his Pororo lamp that Jongin bought for him last month.

The studio apartment they share is small, truly fit for a student's budget, so it was no surprise when the younger accidentally elbowed Kyungsoo's generic Daiso desk lamp during their first movie night. They had all the lights off and a bowl of nachos bought from Gusto Taco between them, Looper playing on Kyungsoo's laptop screen as they squeezed themselves together in the narrow space between Kyungsoo's bed and the wall. When Jongin reached to pause the movie because he had to pee, he hit the lamp down to the floor in the darkness, shattering the light bulb and cracking the body. Jongin was apologetic as he was cheeky when he presented Kyungsoo with the Pororo lamp replacement the day after. Kyungsoo was highly amused but not as amused as Jongin was who showed off his matching Krong light that he plopped down on his own desk with a huge grin. Kyungsoo may have felt a flutter in his chest then, Jongin's smiling eyes lighting up the room than any old Daiso or character lamp can ever do, but Kyungsoo just shook his head to clear the sure beginnings of an unwarranted crush and promptly ignored the awkward beats of attraction in his chest. Unfortunately, since then, he hasn't been very successful.

**from kyungsoo**  
got some food

**from jongin**  
chicken?

**from kyungsoo**  
2 boxes

**from jongin**  
yesssss i'm bringing coke! be there in a sec hyung!

**from kyungsoo**  
get me hite u baby

**from jongin**  
hyung no drinking

**from kyungsoo**  
its friday

**from jongin**  
you have am lab tomorrow hyung so no  
sorry

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at all the _hyungs_ and locks his phone on his desk, shifting to Jongin's rather messy space with a smile on his lips and a shake of his head, picking the books on the younger's bed to put them away. He knows Jongin will get him a can anyway. He always does.

The first thing Kyungsoo noticed when he met Jongin was his smile. Kyungsoo was with his realtor then, a pudgy little man with a wide-toothed grin that extends across his face like an open zipper. Kyungsoo found the man too talkative for his taste but he guessed it came with the job so he held his tongue and endured the shrill ringing in his ears the whole day. They were looking through apartments, one-rooms in old villas that were either too dark or too dilapidated for him to decide on. With his measly budget for deposit money, he didn't have a lot of choices. He was hoping for an officetel, with the building newer and the amenities updated. He didn't mind the longer travel time to campus, as long as the place is livable enough for him, but as his budget would have it, there were none within his range.

"Are you open to sharing?" the enthusiastic and polite voice was pleasant if only a little too loud in the silence of the empty room they were looking at. "I have a studio apartment a couple of streets up and the guy who took it yesterday is looking for a Korean roommate. The apartment's small but it's fully furnished and he's already paid the deposit money in full-"

"I'm Korean," Kyungsoo cut in. He doesn't cut in. He never does. But 'paid deposit money' sounded like a miracle too good to be true and his mouth formed the words before he could think. "And I'm fine with small spaces."

The realtor smiled his open zipper grin and dialed a number on his phone. Thirty minutes later, Kyungsoo was greeted at the apartment door by Kim Jongin.

Truthfully, Kyungsoo didn't know what he was expecting. Maybe a foreigner who was looking for a Korean roommate to help himself integrate into the Korean university lifestyle, or on the flipside, maybe a Korean who doesn't want to room with a foreigner he'll likely have trouble communicating with. Whatever Kyungsoo's non-expectations where, they weren't this–bright chocolate eyes and pink honeyed lips.

Kim Jongin is Korean but a foreigner in a sense. He grew up in Berkhamsted where his family runs a bakery up on high street. He took a gap year after sixth form to help run the family business with his ailing father and when his father passed away last year, he decided on Korea for university. Kim Jongin is polite. He has a kind smile and the softest eyes that crinkles at the sides when he laughs and when he talks, his voice rumbles from his chest and bubbles up his throat in a timbre that sets Kyungsoo's gut aflame.

Kyungsoo almost backed out. He almost did. He almost said no. _No, Sir Pudge, I'm not taking the room, sir_. And if his realtor asked him why, he would have pointed at Kim Jongin, all 183 cm of him in the small apartment studio by the bed in his stupid pink sweater and hazelnut hair with the prettiest smile Kyungsoo had ever seen and Kyungsoo was sure no one would have blamed him.

But as his budget dictates, Kyungsoo didn't. He took the room, making sure to tell his heart and dick to behave.

Jongin arrives at half past nine with a box tucked under his arm and an excited smile on his face, hair clinging to his forehead and falling over his bright eyes. Kyungsoo should be used to it by now but he still gets that flutter of butterfly wings in his chest at that stupidly endearing smile. Yes, he knows. He's working on it.

"What did you get this time?" he asks, transferring a few of the chicken pieces in a larger tupperware to keep in the fridge. The rest he's already reheated and put on a plate for them to share. Jongin would have probably wanted to eat the two boxes of chicken but they need to finish off the tangsuyuk first. Kyungsoo doesn't like keeping sauces in the fridge. "Nothing edible, I hope."

Jongin has only been in Korea since the start of the year, the first month of which he spent sight seeing around Seoul and visiting Jeju, exploring places he would have been familiar with if his parents didn't move to England in the 80s. He spent a good week in Suncheon, down south in Jeollanam-do, where he met his grandparents and aunts and uncles for the first time. When it was time for the spring semester to start, he found a cheap apartment and asked his realtor to look for a Korean who can split the rent with him.

"You'll love this, hyung!" Jongin sets the box down on his desk, stabbing the tape with an open pair of scissors like a madman. He's been having random things from home delivered for a month now, a pile of mostly useless things taking up space on his desk like a Prince Harry and Megan Markle commemorative wedding plate from a year ago and two boxes of PG Tips he religiously drinks on the dining table, things he didn't deem necessary to bring last January but now sees as an absolute must. Simply put, Jongin is homesick. If Kyungsoo gets sad and gloomy when he sees blooming flowers reminding him of home in Gwangju three hours away, then it's only fair that Jongin, thousands of miles away from home would want to feel reminded and connected to it. Kyungsoo can't fault him and if he's being particularly honest, he even finds it sweet, like the million other things Jongin does that Kyungsoo would have found annoying otherwise. "I got this delivered for you, actually."

Something edible then, Kyungsoo chuckles as he brings the plate of chicken to the table to join the two boxes of tangsuyuk, right next to Jongin's can of Coke and his can of Hite. Just as Kyungsoo thought, the younger can never say no to him. "So what is it?" he raises an eyebrow. "And get here before the drinks go warm."

But Jongin ignores him, having successfully wrestled the tapes away from his package. Kyungsoo watches from his seat as Jongin reaches inside the brown box with almost child-like glee as he pulls out what looks to be violet packets of chocolate bars. He takes two, making the short trip to the table with his long long legs in just three steps and places the open box on the table by their dinner. He hands one pack to Kyungsoo excitedly, taking his usual seat by the wall. "Here, hyung! Eat one before I place the rest in the fridge to cool."

By now, Kyungsoo shouldn't be surprised anymore, really. The commemorative plate of the royal wedding should have been indication enough but this one takes the cake. "You had your mother send you a box of these?" he asks amused, unable to take the judgement out of his voice. He peers inside the box where a good dozen or so of the same packets lay, identical happy frogs staring up at him with a huge grin on their faces. Kyungsoo shakes his head with a smile. Jongin can't be serious.

"Okay hyung, hear me out," Jongin says, ripping his own pack open and inching the chocolate bar out top. But it isn't a simple chocolate bar, it's a grinning frog head that comes out. Kyungsoo stares with a mixture of shock and awe when Jongin nonchalantly bites its head off, eyes immediately closing in pure bliss, a soft moan escaping his lips. Kyungsoo swallows thickly. Now is not the time to thirst over Kim Jongin. Not with chocolate bars in the shape of frogs on the table. He's checked how much international deliveries cost after the third package arrived. This box can't be cheap.

"I'm waiting for the explanation," Kyungsoo reminds Jongin who finally opens his eyes, half of his grinning frog already gone. "Preferably before you massacre the entire frog population in this box, please."

"Oh right, sorry," Jongin has the audacity to look sheepish as he closes the box and puts it on top of his tower of tea. "Don't worry, I'll put them away in the fridge properly later."

"So-"

"So remember how I told you I've been craving Freddos?"

"I do-"

"But! I couldn't find one in any mart here in Seoul," Jongin takes another bite, a serious look on his face. "So I checked if they sell these online. Apparently they do but they don't deliver here directly. So I told mum and she sent us a couple. I told her I wanted you to taste them too since you were so grossed out at the idea of eating frogs. Well, they're not frogs-"

"I can see that. Still gross, Jongin-"

"Still not frogs, hyung," Jongin sing-songs, pointedly finishing his pack with a flourish and makes a show of folding the empty wrapper on the table, a cheeky smile on his face. Kyungsoo bemoans the fact that any of Jongin's smiles, even the ones he should be irritated with, make his heart beat just a tad bit faster than usual. He can never really get annoyed with the younger, even when he tries. Jongin loves teasing him but never too much, and always in good fun. Jongin is never malicious, never mean. He knows when to stop and more importantly, he knows what makes Kyungsoo uncomfortable. He never crosses any lines, imagined or otherwise. "Come on. Just one?"

How long will this crush last? Kyungsoo wonders if this is the price he has to pay, having had gotten such a good deal on housing conditions. There just had to be a catch. Kyungsoo knew it was too good to be true. He sighs in defeat.

"When I said I wonder what Chocolate Frogs tasted like, I meant the moving ones from Harry Potter," Kyungsoo begins, reluctantly reaching for the pack of Freddo Jongin gave him and tearing it open. Jongin looks on. "And it was a rhetoric question."

"And Freddo was Rowling's inspiration for those," Jongin supplies encouragingly at Kyungsoo as he bites Freddo's head off like Jongin did, the taste of sweet milk chocolate filling his mouth. "So? How's it taste?"

"It's very…" Jongin has both eyebrows raised in anticipation. Kyungsoo can't help but smile. Jongin's chocolate brown eyes are bright, the same way they were lit up that first day he met him. Kyungsoo never stood a chance, did he? If this truly is the price he has to pay, then he doesn't mind the regular heart palpitations, no matter how unhealthy. He just hopes he survives Kim Jongin long enough to get his degree, at least.

"Very?" Jongin impatiently prompts him.

"Very sweet," Kyungsoo finishes lamely, chuckling at the disappointed look on Jongin's face but then Kyungsoo takes another bite and then against his better judgement, shoves the rest of the frog in his mouth all at once. It does taste good, Kyungsoo has to admit. He looks at the wrapper. Cadbury? He's seen this brand in stores but it's not something he's ever bought before. He might have to try a proper bar one of these days. When Kyungsoo looks up the table at Jongin, the chocolate still stuck to the roof of his mouth, the younger is looking at him with a curious look in his eyes. "What?" he mouths.

"I'm glad you like it, hyung," Jongin says with that small smile of his, the one where the left corner of his mouth lifts his cheeks up, making his eyes crinkle at the sides. It's a sight that Kyungsoo is trying his best to familiarize himself with for the sake of his sanity. It hasn't been particularly easy. "Take as much as you want. There's loads more in the box."

Kyungsoo shakes his head no. "But you got them sent because you miss them. They're for you. One is enough, really."

"Nah," Jongin takes the box of Freddos as he stands up, bringing the now-warm cans of Coke and Hite with him to the fridge. He puts both of them inside and pulls out their pitcher of water instead, bringing it back to the table with him. "I haven't had Freddos in years, actually. I just had this weird craving for them when we were watching Philosopher's Stone."

"Because I asked what they tasted like?"

"Because you wondered what they tasted like," Jongin confirms, pouring Kyungsoo and himself a glass of cold water, the same smile from before still in place, only mellower, softer. "The chicken hyung," he pushes the plate to Kyungsoo, "before it gets cold."

Jongin hands him his pair of chopsticks, letting him take his pick of the chicken pieces first, busy pouring the tangsuyuk sauce over the fried pork and mixing it in. As the younger one between the two of them, most times, Jongin acts accordingly, giving Kyungsoo free reign around the house as he sees fit. But sometimes, like right now, Jongin seemingly forgets their age and he treats Kyungsoo like he would a friend, or someone younger, even. Kyungsoo finds it refreshing.

Jongin begins putting pieces of coated fried pork on his plate as Kyungsoo sits there trying to control the feelings in his chest. "Drink your Hite some other time, hyung. I'll fix you a cup of tea instead," Jongin tells him, opening the small package of pickled mu that came with the chicken and putting it beside Kyungsoo's plate. "You have AM lab tomorrow morning."

Kyungsoo just nods, heart warm from the attention.

It's just before midnight when Kyungsoo finally climbs into bed, the long day's events catching up to his body, weighing him down on the soft mattress like a blanket. He's incredibly tired, eyelids heavy. Despite the housework schedule they worked out the first week, Jongin volunteered to wash the dishes tonight so Kyungsoo can finish his lab report due tomorrow. Kyungsoo promised to make it up to him but the younger just shook his head, as if finding the notion silly and unnecessary. Kyungsoo insisted, regardless. After an hour of intense googling and a cup of tea, Kyungsoo had his report saved and emailed.

On his side of the room, the light from Jongin's phone turns off the same time Kyungsoo reaches over to turn off his desk lamp, bathing the room in almost darkness. Kyungsoo lays awake in the stillness of the night, the steady hum of Seoul outside their window the only sound to be heard. On their ceiling are faintly moving lights reflected from the street outside. Kyungsoo lays ready for sleep to claim him any minute.

"Hyung?" Jongin asks tentatively. "Sleeping?"

Kyungsoo hums in response.

"Do they still make the Pororo sweets you told me about?" Jongin asks. Kyungsoo looks to his left, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly, he makes out the outline of Jongin's profile on his bed, blanket pulled up to his chin as the younger stares up at the blinking yellow lights on their ceiling, watching them dance and flicker faintly on the white paint of their otherwise sparse apartment. "The blue ones. Do they still make them, hyung?"

Kyungsoo was already ten years old when Pororo started airing on EBS. He wasn't particularly fond of the blue penguin. He was told by the neighborhood kids that he looked like the cartoon, some of them making fun of his small stature and his big buggy eyes. Kyungsoo learned to smile politely at the insults but only after he was scolded by his mother because he pushed one of bullies down on the ground and made him cry with the whole playground watching. Kids can be very brutal when they're young.

"The milk chewables?" Kyungsoo turns on his back and looks up at the ceiling as well. There's a red and green light reflection at the corner wall at an angle, slanted and stretched. Kyungsoo knows that's the 7 Eleven across the street where Jongin bought the Coke and his Hite. How many random cravings has Kyungsoo had that Jongin bought for him on his way back from the library? Kyungsoo's lost track. He always says he'd pay Jongin back but the younger would just shake his head, like he always do, and say Kyungsoo doesn't have to. "They don't make them anymore. At least, I don't think so. Why?"

"Nothing, just–" there's a rustle and a squeak from Jongin's bed, then "–I wish I could've eaten Korean sweets too. When I was younger, I mean."

"There weren't any Korean marts where you grew up?"

"There was one in New Malden but it was an hour away. Mum and dad used to go once a month to buy groceries. They'd buy bags of kimchi, gochujang, corn syrup, kim, the essentials. They never brought back snacks and sweets though. Maybe, Pororo milk chewables could've also been my childhood sweets," Jongin's says, wistful. His speaking voice has a lilt, an upwards tick that sounds like a melody to Kyungsoo's ears. Jongin has an accent when he speaks Korean. It isn't very noticeable but it's there when you listen for it. And Kyungsoo listens for it because he finds it endearing. "Wish they still made them so I could taste it. Would've also been a nice reminder of home for you."

"Like Freddo is for you?" Kyungsoo turns to face Jongin again and sees that the younger is already facing him, lying on his side with his chin tucked underneath his sheets, sleepy lidded eyes peaking and staring at Kyungsoo across the room. Kyungsoo blinks, eyelids getting heavier by the second. And then it clicks. "Is that why you bought me the Pororo lamp?"

Even in the dark, Kyungsoo can make the shake of Jongin's shoulders as he chuckles softly, voice as sleepy as Kyungsoo feels when he answers, "Maybe."

After the small incident at the playground, the kids left Kyungsoo alone, knowing never to mess with him again. He still wasn't fond of Pororo but he developed a liking for the opening theme song, sometimes humming it in the shower and when he walks to school. He also started to like the Pororo milk candies they sold at the corner shop near his house. It was run by a crazy ahjumma with big poofy hair and yellowed teeth. The shop always smelled like sesame oil and incense even in spring. Kyungsoo used to clean his father's paintbrushes for a thousand won a week just to buy a pack of the milk candies for himself. He kept them in a jar on his desk, chipping at them slowly through the week. The ahjumma at the store liked him and always gave him a choco pie for free which he ate on his way home. It was always a treat. But then the mothers of Korea protested the candies were too sweet and Lotte changed it to healthy milk chewables, changing the flavor entirely and marketing it as a vitamin for smaller kids. He's hated it ever since.

Kyungsoo smiles sleepily at the memories. He wonders if the ajhumma still runs the store, if she still remembers him and if she will still give him chocopies for free. He misses home. He truly does.

"Thanks, Jongin," he tells the younger who hums back as an answer, a sign that he's already on the verge of sleep. Any minute now, Jongin's soft snores and even exhales will fill the room and Kyungsoo's will soon follow.

"For the lamp?"

"For reminding me of home."

Some nights like this, when both of them are in bed and Jongin is feeling particularly chatty, the younger would ask Kyungsoo questions about random things. What was his favorite cartoon show growing up? Favorite sweets? Snacks? Drinks? Did he have a favorite actor? A favorite song? A favorite movie? Sometimes, the questions require more thought, like what's his opinion on the high cost of living in Seoul and does he agree that Dokdo is South Korea's. Sometimes the questions are hypothetical like what would Kyungsoo do if he could fly or would Kyungsoo choose to be a dog or a cat if he was reborn an animal. But sometimes, Jongin doesn't have questions. He just wants to talk. And those nights Kyungsoo looks forward to the most. They remind him why he always thought that crushes were silly, because they make you forget that the other person is just that, a person. And with Jongin around, Kyungsoo needed reminding.

The first few days of living with Jongin were hard. Kyungsoo couldn't look him straight in the eyes. Even when they were eating together on their small table by the counter, cheap delivery food and revision materials between them, Kyungsoo had a hard time looking at Jongin without his ears turning red and his cheeks warming under the younger's gaze. Maybe Jongin noticed, maybe he didn't. But their nightly talks helped break the haze of extreme physical attraction Kyungsoo was feeling towards the younger. Kyungsoo's still harboring an unwelcome crush but when Jongin lays on his bed across the room from him, his blanket pulled up high under his chin and the faint city lights dancing on their ceiling illuminating his face, telling him silly things he did in his childhood like try to ride his bike to New Malden to get to H Mart when he was 11 only for him to get lost along the way or that time he threw up during morning assembly when he was 8 because he accidentally ate an expired can of beans for breakfast – Jongin began to feel more real, more human, more here, now. Just that, a person. Kyungsoo's crush didn't fade but the intensity of it became something like a pulse, like a thrum that exists under his skin in secret rather than above on display.

A soft snore breaks the silence. Kyungsoo squints at the unmoving lump on Jongin's bed and sees the steady rise and fall of his chest. Jongin has finally fallen asleep.

Maybe Kyungsoo can invite Jongin to Gwangju in July during summer break. They can visit the corner store near Kyungsoo's house with the poofy-haired ahjumma and he can buy Jongin choco pies and tape candies, apollo sticks and sweet medicine tablets. He can say it's payback for all the times Jongin spent money buying him everything he wanted from the 7 Eleven downstairs. He'll buy Jongin all the Korean candies and snacks he never got to eat as a child. Even the new sub par Pororo milk chewables. He'll buy Jongin all of them.

Kyungsoo falls asleep with a smile on his face.

The walk to Mago's from campus is 15 minutes long, 23 if you walk like Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo walks slower than the average Korean, not because he wants to savor the beautiful sight of trees lining the walkway to Seogsan-ro but because he hates sweating. Truly hates it. April spring weather can get humid although windy, sometimes it rains. Kyungsoo is not fond of spring and summer. The heat is his number one enemy.

**from jongin**  
hyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuung

**from kyungsoo**  
??????????

**from jongin**  
anytime before christmas…

**from kyungsoo**  
im on my way  
why r u so impatient

**from jongin**  
i got your usual  
it's warm now though

**from kyungsoo**  
blergh

**from jongin**  
i'll buy you a new one  
if you get here in 5 minutes

**from kyungsoo**  
lol

Kyungsoo locks and pockets his phone with a grin, knowing he'll end up walking slower if he keeps entertaining the younger's messages. Hiking his backpack up his shoulders, he walks past Starbucks and Holly's, both full, the afternoon shoppers taking refuge in the popular chain cafes. He sees Lotteria up ahead and considers getting Jongin his favorite mozzarella burger but ultimately decides against it, knowing Jongin would've already eaten 3 slices of blueberry cheesecake by the time he arrives. He takes a left at Myeongmul, past another 7 Eleven and finally takes a left straight ahead to Paris Baguette where the stairs down to Mago's is.

They decided to meet at their usual spot after classes and get a bit of studying in before dinner. Sadly, Wednesdays are the only days their schedules match up for a cup or two. It was Jongin who found Mago's on one of his bizarre walking expeditions around Sinchon, surveying every nook and cranny of the area and telling Kyungsoo all about his great finds. When the library is full or he wants a change of scenery, he'll park himself at Mago's and go through lattes like water. Jongin told Kyungsoo he hates coffee but the tea in Korea tastes like mud and lattes are only tolerable because of the milk. Kyungsoo thinks mud is a gross exaggeration. Jongin thinks he was being generous.

The street noise levels out as Kyungsoo descends the two flight of stairs to the cafe, the carpeted steel steps muffling the thumps of his converse shoes. Down below, the temperature considerably drops and it drops even more when Kyungsoo pulls the cafe door open and a blast of ac greets him as does the tinkling bell overhead. He shivers, already reaching inside his bag to pull out the sweater he brought with him.

The cafe is never crowded but today there are less people than Kyungsoo is used to seeing. Usually, the long table by the jukebox machine would be occupied by now. Today, it's empty. The only other costumer in the small cafe is an old man hunched over his laptop typing away in the corner with his cup of steaming coffee. Jongin is seated at their usual table, directly beneath the yellow overhead light by the fake potted plant on the other side of the room. Kyungsoo makes his way towards him, the younger looking up and smiling widely at him as he nears. 

Jongin makes a show of looking at the time on his watch even though his macbook is open right in front of him. "7 minutes and 43 seconds," he tuts.

Kyungsoo shrugs, "It's a long way from my building."

"I've already gone through two chapters," Jongin judges, tapping his ipad with the pencil and a slow disapproving shake of his head. Kyungsoo knows that means nothing. Jongin is a fast reader. He has already amassed two shelves of books from Hidden Books, a secondhand bookstore he found in Nogosan-dong, right by Hong-ik University. Kyungsoo came with him once, just to humor him. Jongin may be attractive, and the round-rimmed glasses he wears when he's reading makes him even more so, but Kyungsoo has no love for books, used or new. He was bored to death while the younger spent close to 3 hours going through every shelf in the store, in the end only picking and buying an old Stephen King book called The Long Walk in Korean. At least the eat-all-you-can samgyupsal spot they found on their way back home made the trip worth it. That and the mint honey ice cream sundae Jongin bought him for dessert.

The buzzer by Jongin's ipad lights up and vibrates suddenly, startling Kyungsoo and making Jongin chuckle. "Sorry, must be your mint choco," he apologizes as he stands up and heads for the counter. "I'll get it."

When Jongin returns with his drink, Kyungsoo already has the sweater over his head, slotting his arms into the sleeves with some difficulty but eventually succeeding just in time to see Jongin place a mug of steaming hot mint chocolate in front of him with a smirk. "I got you the hot one. As punishment."

Kyungsoo pouts with a huff, reaching inside his backpack wordlessly for his laptop to get started on his paper. He glares at Jongin over the screen as it boots up to let the younger know he is not amused. But Jongin just laughs that beautiful laugh of his, a pleasant baritone, his eyes crinkling in mirth and Kyungsoo's fake-anger melts away in an instant. "I thought you said you already got me my usual cold cup. Where is it?"

"Hyung," Jongin starts, hand making broad strokes on his ipad with the pencil. He's drawing the fake potted plant again, it seems. "How many times has it been? Four? Six? It always takes you 23 minutes to walk here. By now, I know exactly when I should order your drink for it to arrive just in time for you to put your bag down," Jongin says matter-of-factly. He looks focused, tongue poking to the side of his lips as his hand moves swiftly across the screen. Jongin does draw well, if a little crude. "So what I'm saying is, and I don't mean to be rude but–" he looks up, "Hyung, you walk too slow."

Kyungsoo tears his eyes away from the younger's tongue as it swipes across his pink lips. Kyungsoo ignores him and takes a sip of his hot drink instead (which he would have preferred cold but oh well). This makes Jongin chuckle again, looking at the potted plant beside Kyungsoo every now and then. Jongin always draws random things when they're out and about. The first time it happened, Kyungsoo thought Jongin was staring at him, his gaze intent and heavy making Kyungsoo's cheeks flush, and for a short hot minute, hope flared up in his chest, but then he realized Jongin was just sketching the fake potted plant beside him and the hope died out in an instant. Thankfully, the disappointment didn't last long because he didn't hope for long.

"Looks good on you, by the way," Jongin observes, tapping away on his ipad with the pencil and then zooming in and out with his fingers.

"Hm?" Kyungsoo hums in question, logging into his department website for the course readings he needs to download. "What looks good on me?"

Jongin lifts his eyes from his drawing and looks at Kyungsoo's shoulders, then his chest to his arms. His eyes linger. Jongin answers with a smile, "My sweater."

Oh, right.

By now, Kyungsoo is well on his painful journey of getting used to Jongin's many compliments. He used to blush madly, cheeks heating up in an embarrassing flush that he hides by laughing and trying to joke the compliment away. But then he noticed that Jongin meant them, each one of them. No matter how off-handed, no matter how little, how simple, Jongin is always sincere. Kyungsoo learned to accept the compliments, his ego well and fed. He doesn't blush from the compliments anymore (although sometimes his ears still turn red, yes). Instead, they make Kyungsoo feel warm inside, the heat from his cheeks having moved residence into his heart. Truthfully, it's dangerous territory.

"This?" Kyungsoo tries to act nonchalant, looking down at the peach-pink fluffy sweater like he didn't just "accidentally" grab it from the back of the younger's chair this morning to wear to Neuro. Again.

Kyungsoo isn't to blame. The ac in 403 is broken. The dial is stuck and the remote is missing. Maintenance says they'll fix it in a week but still haven't after six. The result is unpleasant. Half the class wanted to turn the ac off completely and suffer through the possible consequence of sweating in a class full of students while the other half would rather suffer through the extreme cold rather than smell like a pig in spring. It was a no-brainer for Kyungsoo. "Oh yeah, sorry. I was running late this morning." A lie. Kyungsoo is never late. He always leaves extra early because he knows he walks slow.

"The ac still broken? It's been what? Five weeks?"

"Six."

"Ah, yes, like we aren't paying an arm and six other illegally obtained limbs," Jongin frowns, face scrunched up. Jongin is soft-spoken, one of the many things he has in common with Kyungsoo. But sometimes, Jongin gets heated about certain philosophical and socio-political debates. He once went on an hour long rant about Brexit and why both May and Johnson are proper fools, the least colorful of insults he used. When Jongin is wound up, he starts speaking in English, unable to express his thoughts fast enough in Korean. Kyungsoo finds it very amusing, and a tad bit endearing, to see the younger so passionate about issues he cares about. "Maybe post something on the university message board anonymously. That might get things going faster."

That's not a bad idea. "I'll tell Baekhyun." Kyungsoo grabs his phone, already pulling up Baekhyun's katalk and telling him Jongin's suggestion. While waiting for an answer, he scrolls up to read the messages Baekhyun has sent through the week. Kyungsoo has already unapologetically muted the guy ever since Baekhyun spammed him with memes the whole of February. As batch representative, Baekhyun sometimes sends important announcements but those he also sends to the department chat group which Kyungsoo hasn't muted. Yet.

As expected, Baekhyun's messages can all be classified as spam except for one. Sent last Monday is an image with a huge bowl of jjajjangmyeon in HD smack dab in the center and a QR code on the bottom. The text reads: _Come celebrate Black Day with us this Saturday! Scan the code below at the counter for a 25% discount!_ Baekhyun's winking face is on the bottom left corner right next to the restaurant's address and contact number. Kyungsoo wonders if Baekhyun ever successfully extorted the modeling fee he wanted from his mother and father. Probably not. But he does keep his cut for every time their department orders Chinese takeaway for meetings. Kyungsoo always thought Baekhyun should have gone into Business instead of Psychology.

"Hey Jongin," he saves the image, just in case. Jongin looks up from his notebook where he's already started transferring his notes from his macbook and writing them down by hand. "Want to go get jjajjangmyeon at Myeongdong this Saturday?"

"You craving for jjajjangmyeon?" Jongin stops writing. "I found a place that seems nice a block away from here. We can go there for dinner after, if you want," he offers, taking his fork to chip off at the cheesecake between them. Like Kyungsoo predicted, it seems to be Jongin's 3rd slice. "But it's movie night and I already ordered our usual from Gusto Taco… should I cancel?"

"No, no! Don't. No cancelling my weekly dose of cheese nachos and veggie salad, please," Kyungsoo shakes his head, stern. They're finally watching Chernobyl tonight at Jongin's insistence. He said Kyungsoo would surely love it and while Kyungsoo is looking forward to it, he's more looking forward to sitting close to Jongin under the blanket on the younger's bed to watch illegally downloaded videos on his macbook. After the lamp incident, they've transferred their movie nights somewhere they can't hit fragile electric appliances. "So you want to go? Celebrate our lonely single lives together?"

Jongin looks confused.

"You don't want to go?" Kyungsoo asks. Jongin tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. Jongin has never said no to him yet. Kyungsoo once joked they should skip classes and fly to Jeju for the weekend. Jongin was booking flights the very next minute. Thankfully, Kyungsoo caught him before he got to spend any money. "You already have plans on Saturday?"

Jongin shakes his head, still confused.

And then it dawns on Kyungsoo. What if… no. No. His heart sinks to his stomach. He wasn't hoping. He wasn't harboring any hope. Jongin never told him. And he's never heard Jongin talk to anyone back home on the phone. Let alone video call anyone. Not even his mother who he talks to and sends messages to all day. But then again, who's Kyungsoo to know if he has a– a _friend_. But he can't have, can he? Kyungsoo swallows and asks tentatively, "You're not… single?"

Jongin's eyes widen in surprise.

"What?! No!" Jongin shoots straight up in his seat with a shout, voice louder and a pitch higher than usual. "I'm single! Very much single! Totally single!" The man in the corner looks over at their table with a glare. Even the barista at the counter glances at them. In the small coffee shop, with it's mellow Korean indie playlist playing in a loop from overhead, Jongin's voice rang like a shrill whistle. Kyungsoo's never heard him shout before, all high pitched with a whine. And all to say he's single. Kyungsoo shouldn't be smiling but he is. Ah, so he _was_ hoping. This is news to him. 

"Sorry," Jongin mumbles, hunching in his seat and ducking his head in embarrassment at the whole room's sudden attention. Kyungsoo turns to bow at the man and the barista in apology. Jongin follows suit, his ears adorably red. He takes a sip of his water and clears his throat, looking to check that his audience is back to one before he leans over the table and asks in his normal voice, serious, "Sorry but, what does me being single have to do with anything?"

It's Kyungsoo's turn to tilt his head at Jongin. The younger still looks confused, like he doesn't kno- oh. He doesn't know.

"Black Day," Kyungsoo says, watching the crease on Jongin's forehead deepen. Right. Kyungsoo's forgotten. "You've never celebrated it before?"

Jongin thinks for a second. "Well, I know about Black Friday. We get some really good deals during that day. But it's a very recent thing back home and not all the shops participate. Mum actually bought herself a new rice cooker online last year. 35% off! Is it like that? Like a huge one-day sale, only in April?"

Kyungsoo chuckles and shakes his head no, "It's a Korean thing–not to say you're not Korean but–"

"I know-"

"Every 14th of the month, Koreans celebrate some type of day. It's kinda silly, actually. But you've noticed, right? That the couple culture here is on another level? Couple clothes sold everywhere, couple sets in every menu. You see couples on the streets with matching tees. They have matching shoes. They celebrate the 100th day, the 300th day, the 1000th day. It can get insane, really."

"Ah, so that's why," Jongin nods in understanding. "I thought the promotions for Valentines Day last February was a tad bit too intense. Little bit of a culture shock for me, actually. I couldn't go a meter in Hongdae without being handed a promotional Valentines Day flyer for every shop around the area."

"Exactly! So if Valentines Day is celebrated every 14th of February, Koreans went a step further and made up a different day every month. Like Journal Day every January, White Day every March-"

"And Black Day every April?"

Kyungsoo nods, taking sips of his now warm drink. Black Day, it's a day he knows all too well. "I don't usually buy into these days. Although it is kinda sad being single with no date every February with all the hearts and pink around but it's just clever marketing, really. I mean, who am I to complain about huge discounts? They sell really cheap good quality journals around January and silver jewelries go really cheap around July."

"So it _is_ kinda like Black Friday, only its every month and more couple-centered. Interesting…" Jongin muses. He's typing away on his mac, fingers moving deftly across the keys, then after a minute, he breathes a soft aha! and starts reading off the screen, "Black Friday is for the single men and women with no significant others to celebrate the other 14ths of the year with. Following the popular days of Valentines Day and White Day, Black Day is celebrated every 14th of April by eating the traditional Korean-Chinese black noodle dish jjajjangmyeon."

"Sounds about right."

Jongin looks up at Kyungsoo with bright smiling eyes, "So… were you like, asking me out on a date?"

Kyungsoo chokes on his mint choco.

What?

"Sorry, you okay?" Jongin hurries to apologize, already pouring Kyungsoo a glass of water from the pitcher. Kyungsoo shakes his head coughing, clawing for Jongin to hand the glass over immediately.

"I don't think-" Kyungsoo turns to his side, away from his precious laptop that he only got last Christmas. He hacks and coughs over the warm liquid that went down the wrong pipe. When it stops, he hurriedly drinks the cold water in huge big gulps and waits for his throat to relax before he turns back to Jongin who is leaning towards him, concern in his eyes. Kyungsoo glares.

"Well, it sounded like a date," the younger defends himself softly with a pout. Kyungsoo averts his eyes. He's weak to that pout.

"I think- I think that defeats the purpose of the day though, if we, uh-" Kyungsoo cuts himself. Jongin is still looking at him, leaning over the table, eyebrows drawn in worry. It was a harmless little joke, Kyungsoo realizes that now. But Jongin isn't laughing, isn't even teasing him for his reaction. Instead, the younger's eyes are soft and concerned. Kyungsoo's heart warms. That flutter in his chest, we're they really just butterflies or has it always been hope? He clears his throat and finishes, "-if we go on a date to celebrate it."

Jongin stares at him a few seconds too long, Kyungsoo unable to meet his eyes. After a minute, Jongin finally leans back on his seat, a curious look overtaking his face. He glances at his screen and reads for a moment. "Black Day…" he mumbles, pauses and then nods with a smile, "Right," he breathes. "Sorry, hyung. I guess you're right."

An awkward silence befalls them. The very first one since they've met.

To occupy his hands, Kyungsoo decides to drink up his glass of water and go back to working on his paper. He pulls up his research notes from his phone and begins typing wordlessly. Across from him, out of the corner of his eye and behind his laptop screen, he sees Jongin doing the same. Overhead, Bolbbalgan4 croons Galaxy through the speakers.

Ah, and so he is, Kyungsoo thinks. Hope. He didn't think he was hoping. But here he is, hoping anyway.

The lights are off. Outside, the usual weekday noises of the night are muted by the earphone slotted in Kyungsoo's right ear, the other half of which is in Jongin's left. They're back in their apartment, a bowl of Gusto Taco nachos smothered in queso cheese sitting on Kyungsoo's lap. They have Jongin's macbook stacked on top of Kyungsoo's DSMV-5, perched on the foldable study table they assembled by Jongin's bed. The table is a little shorter than normal but with a thick book added for a couple of extra centimeters, it's the perfect viewing height from where the two of them are huddled close together on the younger's bed. On the screen, Chernobyl is playing with the Korean subtitles on. It isn't the best home theater set up but they both think it's alright.

Apparently, Chernobyl isn't a movie but a series, a deviation from their usual. Jongin reckoned they could do two or three episodes before they need to go to sleep. Kyungsoo has no morning classes but Jongin has one at 8. They're on episode four now but the younger shows no sign of being sleepy. It's almost 1 am.

The walk back home wasn't awkward but it was different. Usually, Jongin would point out the new interesting places he found around the neighborhood–a cheap laundromat that gives out free candies, a nameless coffee shop on the second floor of Nature Republic, a rest cafe with beds and hammocks, all of which weren't here when Kyungsoo was a freshman two years ago. Today, however, Jongin spent the time asking Kyungsoo questions about random things and letting him talk instead. Kyungsoo isn't a naturally talkative person but Jongin always seems so interested in the things he have to say that he always ends up speaking more than he normally does. Today, Jongin was especially curious about Kyungsoo's preferences in food. By the time they've arrived at their door, Kyungsoo has already told Jongin about the restaurant he used to frequent in Namdaemun, that his favorite way to eat chicken is in a samgyetang or a jiggae, that he used to live off of jjajjangmyeon deliveries, that his mother taught him how to cook when he was five and that no, Jongin shouldn't buy kitchen supplies for their apartment because Kyungsoo's too busy to cook at home this semester. It was the most Kyungsoo had talked all day, Jongin nodding along beside him.

Even now, Jongin is uncharacteristically quiet. He usually has little inputs about the films they watch, especially when it's based on a book he's read like Shawshank Redemption and the Harry Potter series they just binge watched. He'd pause the movie every now and then, pointing out little things that were different from the books or something the subtitle got wrong with the dialogue. Kyungsoo would have found it annoying, he likes watching his movies in peace after all, but Jongin always makes sure there was a lull in the scene before he hits pause. He never breaks tension or suspense. He knows just the right time to insert his little tidbits of trivia. But what Kyungsoo probably likes the most is that Jongin's interjections are always helpful. He never assumes that Kyungsoo doesn't understand, he merely supplies interesting information. And when Kyungsoo does have trouble understanding_—_like Shutter Island, for example_—_Jongin was patient and never condescending.

On the screen, the liquidators are shooting dogs. Kyungsoo glances to his right, knowing Jongin has a very soft spot for them, but the younger doesn't react. His eyes are on the screen but his mind seems to be far away, eyes glazed and unfocused. Kyungsoo reaches over to hit pause.

Jongin doesn't register that the video has stopped playing at first, his eyes still looking at the still screen. Kyungsoo nudges him gently, "Hey." Jongin blinks with a start, looking at Kyungsoo in question. Kyungsoo scoots up the bed to place the bowl of nachos on the table. He turns to Jongin. The younger looks fine but the shine in his eyes have dulled. In the darkness of the room with the lights off, the difference is very noticeable. Kyungsoo returns to his place beside him. "You okay?"

"Sorry, just-" Jongin moves and brings his knees up to his chest, tucking his chin in and hugging himself. He shrugs. "-just thinking about what you said at Mago's."

"Is this about the date-"

"No, no. That's not it-"

"Then what is it?"

Jongin hesitates. "Black Day. How I didn't know about it. Or Wine Day. Or Silver Day. And I was thinking… what else don't I know?" Jongin smiles bitterly. "Probably a ton of other things."

Jongin's eyes are sad. His shoulders are hunched in on himself. Jongin is tall, a head taller than Kyungsoo. But right now he looks small, trying to look smaller, as he hugs his knees to himself tighter. Something painful aches in Kyungsoo's chest. Kyungsoo knows it isn't because of him but he still feels like he's hurt Jongin. "I'm sorry," he offers.

Jongin shakes his head, "Nah, it's not your fault, hyung."

Kyungsoo knows but he still wants to apologize, still wants to make it up to the younger. "You know, not everyone celebrates the 14th of every month," he tries. "Some people think its silly. Most people don't even know. Or care."

"But you know."

"Because I've heard of it before-"

"Because you grew up here."

A beat and then two.

"Do you wish you grew up here?" Kyungsoo asks and Jongin stills. Kyungsoo wonders if he's asked too sensitive a question, the beat turning to three, to four, five, six, until finally–

"Some days," Jongin answers, voice quiet but sure. "But most days no. They say there's nothing cool to do in Berko but I love where I grew up. Rolling hills, green everywhere you look. It's beautiful, especially during autumn." Jongin's voice is soft, too soft that Kyungsoo has to scoot even closer, the heat of Jongin's body against his side making his skin prickle. It's the closest they've ever sat before. "My dad and I used to go to Ashridge every month with Monggu. We'd walk different trails depending on the weather. Sometimes, mum would come with us along Duncombe but she's always busy at the bakery." He looks at the calendar hanging across the room above Kyungsoo's bed. "Around this time, the bluebells at Dockey Wood should be turning bluer and by the last week of April, it should be a beautiful carpet of blue for as far as your eyes can see. I wish you can see it in person, hyung. Pictures really don't do it justice."

"Isn't that where you said they filmed the movie we watched last time? Maleficent?"

"You remember? My mates and I, we actually tried to sneak in where they were filming, took us a long time to find the set too. Rode all the way up north in our bicycles. We got caught though, skipping school on a weekday. Mum was furious," Jongin smiles at the memory, making Kyungsoo smile too. Jongin has lifted his head up now, his face visible from the blue glow of the screen. "I loved school, loved my classmates. I've known them since we were kids. We all attended St. Thomas and Ashlyns from pre-prep through Sixth and had this friendly rivalry going on with Berkhamsted Boys. We had these silly bets every now and then but we're all rubbish at keeping score, it was basically useless. Like a couple of years ago, the Queen visited their school and we had a bet what color her dress was going to be but everyone guessed fuchsia so we thought no one won and that's that. Me and mum even joined the crowd waving flags outside our bakery waiting for the Queen to drive by just so I can see what color her dress was. But then they declared themselves winner by account of seeing the Queen up close. Our Head Boy was not happy, to say the least. He threatened to kidnap the duck they were raising at the canal and bake it into a sausage roll. It was mental!" he chuckles, releasing the tension that binds his shoulders as he laughs softly in the dark. "Thankfully, they conceded the win and no ducks were harmed. Oh well, they do have a good rugby team, we give them that," Jongin admits with a smile. "Berko isn't small, hyung, but I guess you can still say everybody knew everybody somehow."

It's the most Jongin has talked about his hometown. He's mentioned bits and pieces before, how the Rex by their bakery on high street has sparked his love for movies, how he used to dream of owning a house on Castle Hill overlooking the cricket ground, how he cried his eyes out when he didn't get his Hogwarts letter when he turned 11 and how his dad and sisters had to take him down to Leavesden for the complete Harry Potter tour that weekend to calm him down. But it's the first time he's talked about the people. He misses them. Kyungsoo can see that these are all pleasant memories, things that make it harder to be away. 

"Do you miss home?"

Jongin nods, loosening his tight hold around his frame. The sadness is gone. Instead, he looks pensive, a little regretful. "But I chose Korea."

"And do you regret it?" After a second, "Do you wish you stayed?"

"Everyday," the answer is immediate. "I wanted to go to King's or maybe even UCL. Euston's only 30 minutes away by train. I could've done politics or sociology, maybe business. There's the KCL and UCL Dance Societies too. I've seen them perform live and they were phenomenal. But-"

Jongin pauses here, and he blinks. Kyungsoo looks, really looks, and sees a very visible weight in the younger's eyes, like years of worry and burden finally surfacing from where he's kept them down below. Kyungsoo has seen that look before. He knows how heavy that weight feels, how the longer it's kept bottled inside, the harder it is to bear.

"-Dad said he wished he could've taken me and my sisters here when we were growing up, if just for the holidays. Or that he registered our births to the Family Registry so we can have dual citizenship and choose when we are older. He said the one thing he regrets the most was not moving us to New Malden when he had the chance. Because the next thing he knew, the bakery's ownership's been transferred to him, I was already doing ballet, my sister's already got her first job at Gatsby and mum's already head of the Gardening Society at Bridge Street. We've already put down roots, was what he said. We were already part of the community. I mean, mum and dad tried to keep the Korean culture alive at home, of course. Our pantry was always full of groceries from H Mart. We had kimchi every meal, even when we were having Sunday roast. We celebrated Seollal and even gave our neighbors tteok. We spoke Korean at home too, and when we were kids, dad used to drive us to Korean Sunday school an hour away at Kingston where they taught us grammar and vocabs. And it's been easier the last few years, with Korean restaurants and marts popping up everywhere in southwest London.

"But that's the thing, hyung. When we're there for a day, it feels different, you know? Surrounded by Koreans all speaking in Korean, signage on the shops on high street in hangul, Korean newspaper on the newsstands. It feels like a totally different world. But then we come back home, and I go to school the rest of the week and it's just… it's not the same."

Like you're living two lives, Kyungsoo wants to say but he doesn't. The look in Jongin's eyes awhile ago, the heavy weight of it, carrying a burden all these years – Kyungsoo has seen it before in the mirror.

Beside him, Jongin lays his head on his knees and looks up at him, his hazelnut hair falling down his eyes. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've always felt like… like I'm Korean. But not enough. Not Korean enough. But I'm also British, because my papers said so. But I'm not British enough either. I still get mistaken for Chinese or when I visit London, I get asked where I'm from and when I say I'm from Berko they look at me like I'm hard of hearing and ask again, like no, what _country_ am I really from, even though I was born there just like everyone else. It's like, it doesn't matter who I'm with. I'll always be someone on the outside, some _other_. I don't know, hyung, I just–" Here, Jongin breathes, a shaky exhale that shakes his frame. It sounds like a slingshot finally releasing straight into the distance, free and soaring but pained. Kyungsoo feels his heart tighten in his chest. It hurts to hear. "I just don't know who I am, some days. I always feel like a stranger in my own skin."

Kyungsoo doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to comfort Jongin who has always been like sunshine to him, whose smiles always light up any room, eyes always bright and shining. It suddenly makes sense, Jongin's long walks around their neighborhood, talking to the ahjummas and imos that man the random shops in the back alleyways, making friends with all the eateries and the cafes and the bakeries in and around Sinchon. Kyungsoo thought Jongin was just excited to explore a new place, somewhere he hasn't been to before. But maybe he was also trying to make himself be a part of it, lay down his own roots in a place that can be another home.

"I miss her," Jongin says simply, sadly. He doesn't say who but Kyungsoo immediately knows.

"Then call her. Don't reject her calls."

"You've noticed?" Jongin doesn't look surprised.

"You message her constantly everyday but I've never heard you talk to her." Of course Kyungsoo has noticed. He's noticed every single thing about the younger. It's a bad habit he's trying to break. "I know you have your reasons but Jongin, I'm sure she misses you too."

"I'm just afraid that if I hear mum's voice, I'm going to want to pack my bags and come home immediately," he laughs, short and shaky. But there is a smile on his lips and his eyes are looking at Kyungsoo with that light he's had in his eyes since the first time they met. Kyungsoo's heart beats irregularly in his chest. "And I don't want to leave, hyung. I don't want to go. I want to stay. I want to say here."

Kyungsoo knows Jongin means here, in Korea, at Yonsei, in general. Jongin wants to keep trying, keep growing his own roots, and branching out. Kyungsoo knows he meant stay here to learn more about the side of him he's always felt alienated from, to make that part of him feel like himself, to make him feel whole.

But- and this is a but, a selfish but-

But Kyungsoo can't help but wonder, can't help but hear the end-tail of that sentence in his head.

I want to stay. I want to stay here. _With you_.

"You don't have to go," Kyungsoo says carefully, evenly. Jongin is still looking at him, eyes alight with such tenderness. Kyungsoo shouldn't hope but Jongin is giving him every reason to. "But your mother doesn't have to be alone."

Jongin looks a second more, eyes boring into Kyungsoo's before he looks away, rueful smile on his face. Kyungsoo finally breathes easy. "Yeah, I guess you're right, hyung. I guess she doesn't have to.

"Call her."

Jongin nods.

The clock reads 2 AM in the morning. They're both laying down on their own beds, the macbook on Jongin's desk and the folding table back under the sink. The leftover nachos, Kyungsoo had transferred to a tupperware and put inside the fridge. It's late. Kyungsoo is tired, his eyelids heavy. Cocooned under his blanket, he feels comfortable and warm, ready to sleep. Across from him, Jongin turns off his phone and lays it on his desk.

"Hyung?" Jongin calls from his side of the room. "Sleeping?"

Kyungsoo hums his usual response, eyes already half-closed.

"How about you?" the younger asks.

"…bout what?" Kyungsoo opens his eyes again with effort. Above, the faint dancing lights on their ceiling seems almost hypnotic as the cars down below drive and pass by, Seoul alive and well below them. Kyungsoo yawns.

"Have you ever felt the same?" Jongin's voice is curious. Kyungsoo hears the telltale rustle of Jongin's sheets as the younger twists and turns. Kyungsoo doesn't have to look to know that Jongin is now lying on his side, looking at him, eyes peering above his blankets, chin tucked under. "Have you ever felt like you don't belong?"

All the time, Kyungsoo almost immediately answers. Thankfully, he catches his mouth before his fatigue gives him away.

"Why do you ask?" Kyungsoo is cautious. He turns to his side too. Sure enough, Jongin is already looking at him.

"You told me freshman year was hard for you," Jongin reminds him. And he did, Kyungsoo told Jongin that the first week but Jongin never asked him why. "I'm just wondering if it was hard the same way it's hard for me too."

"Freshman year," Kyungsoo pauses, hesitant. Sleep is slipping away from him slowly as he thinks the question over.

Across the room, Jongin's face is illuminated by the faint city lights. He looks young, younger than in the morning when he looks like someone straight out of Kyungsoo's fantasies. Right now, Jongin just looks like Jongin, who laid his insecurities down bare. Kyungsoo can afford him a little bit of honesty.

"Freshman year was tough," he starts, still wondering if he can share this part of him. "You passed by Gwangju when you visited your relatives down in Suncheon, right? So you know it isn't rural but it's no Seoul either. I came here alone right out of high school too. I didn't know anyone. I had acquaintances but I wouldn't call them friends. And I used to have this thick Jeolla satoori that I was conscious of. I tried my best to get rid of it. It wasn't embarrassing but I guess I just wanted to fit in. I didn't want to stand out. But-" Kyungsoo stops, hesitates.

"But that's not it, is it?"

Kyungsoo doesn't know if he should say, if he's ready to tell Jongin something so personal. He doesn't know if this will change the way Jongin treats him. Will he have to move out? But he looks at the younger across him, eyes staring at him, open and honest and sincere. Jongin has a kind heart, a kind soul. Kyungsoo chooses to trust him.

"No. No, it's not," Kyungsoo shakes his head. He feels cold, clammy. Is he scared? Yes he is, but he presses on. "Even back in Gwangju, I think I might have known. But here in Seoul, in university, you meet a lot of people. It's a short ride to Itaewon too. I guess it just cemented the fact that I'm, you know, that I-"

Jongin catches on. "You don't have to, hyung-"

"I didn't run away. At least, I don't want to think I did. I enlisted after freshman year. I guess I just needed time to think. I needed time to accept that I'm- that I-" Kyungsoo breathes. He tries and tries and fails again. He still can't say it out loud. He steels himself. "What I'm trying to say is that Korean society is still not accepting of the kind of person I am."

Kyungsoo says it all in one breath, like the lack of pause or stops can make his words seem less scared, make him feel less naked.

Catharsis. They were just discussing it last week. A purging, a cleansing. To rid oneself of negative emotions through a release. Prof. Yun said that sometimes, humans don't seek advice when they let out their problems, when they rant out their frustrations to friends or when they cry. Not everyone is looking for a solution. Sometimes, humans just want to let their thoughts and feelings out. And it helps, to tell someone how you feel, even if there is nothing else they can offer but a listening ear.

Across from him, Jongin has a soft look of understanding on his face. Illuminated by the faint street lights outside, there is no denying it. Kim Jongin is beautiful. Gorgeous. The most attractive man Kyungsoo has ever seen. Still, he is afraid. His heart in his throat, Kyungsoo tries to smile. Will things change now?

"Let's go, hyung," Jongin says all of a sudden. "This Saturday. Let's celebrate the 14th of April together."

As lonely singles, Kyungsoo adds in his head. But Jongin is still looking at him, that curious look on his face again, with the softest eyes that seem to read Kyungsoo better and better each day. Jongin smiles and the fear in Kyungsoo dies in an instant.

Kyungsoo has only known Jongin for two months but truthfully, it feels like they've already known each other for twenty. Maybe even more. Jongin feels to him like an old friend he knew from his childhood, a friend he hasn't seen in a long while but one he can easily swing back into friendship like there hasn't been any years lost between them. And there isn't. None at all, in fact. Kyungsoo hasn't known Jongin for long but the way they move around each other already feels like they've known each other forever.

"So what do you say? Do you want to celebrate Black Day with me?"

Who is Kyungsoo to say no? So he says yes.

"Yes, Jongin, let's go."

Kyungsoo hates walking. He really isn't a fan. Today, the sun is shining down brightly even though it rained last night. Thankfully, the wind is a tad bit chilly, allowing Kyungsoo to wear a nice long-sleeve plaid button up. He's paired it with his one good dark jeans and the gray sneakers he loves so much. He debated styling his hair up but in the end, he didn't want to seem like he put in too much effort, opting to put his black-rimmed glasses on instead. Jongin has mentioned he looks good with it on. And he knows it isn't a date, it really isn't, but he still wanted to look nice. Beside him, Kim Jongin looks like a dream in his usual pink sweater and blue denim jeans, white sneakers on his feet and round-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, a gorgeous smile on his lips. It's terribly unfair.

"Ah sorry, hyung," Jongin's steps slow down. "Am I walking too fast?"

"No, no, it's fine but," Kyungsoo huffs, trying to match his walk with the younger. "Where are we going, exactly?"

"Just up the street," Jongin replies with a grin. "Sorry, I promise to get you mint honey ice cream later, yeah?"

Jongin woke up earlier than him today which is rare when the younger doesn't have classes. Usually, Jongin sleeps well into the late afternoon on Saturdays, eating his breakfast, lunch and dinner in one big meal when he wakes up. Most days, they order in, some days they go out and try one of Jongin's restaurant finds. Today, however, they've just exited Heohyeon Station at Exit 5, holding a kimchi mandu each to snack on as they make their way through the crowded foot traffic of Namdaemun on a Saturday. They are on their way to Baekhyun's family's Chinese restaurant in Myeongdong, ready to redeem their 25% discount coupon for a bowl of jjajjangmyun each but Jongin insisted on getting off a stop early to buy something he apparently really really needs. Kyungsoo was opposed to walking to Myeongdeong a stop away but Jongin was persistent, puppy eyes and pouty lips some of Kyungsoo's newly formed weaknesses.

"What do you need to buy anyway?" Kyungsoo asks, taking a bite of his mandu. He's holding the bag that holds the remaining six. He's had this before. Plenty of times, in fact. He used to live around the area when he was a freshman, at a hasuk-jib he found purely by chance. The commute to Yonsei was only 30 minutes by train with only one transfer. He didn't mind the distance because it meant the rent was cheaper. There was no deposit money too, and the one he found even came with free meals twice a day. For a poor student like Kyungsoo, it was heaven-sent. However, as a return student from service, he opted to look for a place closer and as luck would have it, stumbled upon something even better than cheap rent and free meals, something even better than his favorite dish which, if they aren't headed for some jjajjangmyeon right now, he would love to get a bowl of from a shop just a street over.

"Just something I found yesterday," Jongin answers simply, smiling down at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He takes a look at his watch and says, "We need to hurry though. They close at 3."

"You were here yesterday? Why didn't you just buy it then?"

"I was here for research," Jongin defends himself. "Besides, aren't you the one who told me to sample the goods first before buying things from markets here in Seoul?"

Kyungsoo can't deny that. If the random and useless knick-knacks he's been sending from home are any indication, Jongin isn't the smartest buyer. Kyungsoo takes another bite of his own mandu with a nod, "Fair enough."

Jongin takes a bite of his own mandu soon after, his eyes going comically wide. Jongin usually isn't one for theatrics and overreactions. "Oh wow, the kimchi they use is so crunchy! What else is in here?" He peers inside the bun in wonder. "Pork? Onion? Chives? This is stuffed full! Hyung, we're getting more before we go home."

"Told you so. If a shop has pictures of tv shows and celebrities visiting plastered all over the store, you know it's good stuff." Kyungsoo takes another mandu from the pack and hands it to Jongin, the younger having just stuffed the one he was eating into his mouth in one bite. "Here. And no, I'm not walking back here from Baekhyun's just to get you more mandu. We can come back another time."

Jongin smiles through his mouthful of kimchi mandu, chews and swallows, taking the one from Kyungsoo's hand. "Can I have your share then?" He points at the bag Kyungsoo is holding, a hopeful smile on his face.

Kyungsoo exhales, shaking his head in defeat, "Fine. You can have some of mine."

Jongin rewards him with a brilliant smile that dazzles Kyungsoo into handing the younger the whole bag.

They've been walking for a few minutes, the sun leveling with the market buildings as it sinks lower down the horizon. Their mandus are all gone now, Jongin only eating his share despite Kyungsoo giving him the whole bag like he asked for. To wash it all down, they bought a giant cup of sikhye to share.

Finally, as Kyungsoo finishes their drink and stashes the cup in his bag to throw away later, Jongin stops at an all-white building with no open windows, a plain toilet sign hanging outside. Kyungsoo looks at all the signages but there are too many right up to the third floor that he doesn't guess what the younger is here for. By the street are several open spaces from all sides, people going to and fro the entrance and exits in thick droves. Jongin doesn't head to any of them, however. Instead, he goes straight for the stairs facing the street, beckoning Kyungsoo to follow him.

"We're near, hyung," Jongin looks back to him, waiting at the foot of the stairs with an excited smile on his lips. "Just a few flight of stairs up and we'll be there."

"You still haven't told me what we came here for," Kyungsoo complains but the smile on the younger's face is too contagious, he smiles back and follows the younger up anyway.

Jongin purses his lips and wiggles his eyebrows making Kyungsoo chuckle, "You'll see."

They pass the second floor shops and goes another flight up to the third floor, Kyungsoo panting heavily by the time they reach the landing. Beside him, Jongin's breathing has not changed at all. He just looks at Kyungsoo with that same excited smile and a light in his eyes as he leads him to the glass doors.

When they enter, Kyungsoo's breath gets stuck in his throat and for a second, the world stills.

Flowers. All he sees are flowers. Flowers everywhere. The whole way down the long aisle, it's nothing but flowers. Kyungsoo sees yellow and green, there's lavender and red. Off to the side he sees orange and peach. Every store on either side sells nothing but flowers, every variety, every color and every size, some in pots, some hanging, some cut and arranged in bouquets. He sees roses, hyacinths. There are daisies and tall bamboo palms. There are orchids in full bloom, and some that are just buds waiting to grow. Everywhere he looks, he sees green and then he breathes – it smells like home.

Kyungsoo just stands there for a minute, the cold blast of the ac above the glass doors pouring down his back like ice. He's lived here for a year, just a short walk away, but he's never been here before, a hidden flower market so close by. How did Jongin find this? Kyungsoo swallows thickly and blinks the unexpected well of emotions away. Beside him, Jongin must have noticed but the younger doesn't mention it. Instead, he puts an arm around Kyungsoo's shoulder and pulls him to his side.

"Let's go," Jongin starts, but Kyungsoo's still rooted to the spot.

"What-" Kyungsoo's voice is scratchy. He tries again. "What did you need to buy here?"

Jongin looks down at him, playful grin gone. Instead, Jongin's smile is warm. "I want to buy you a gift. A plant you can grow in our flat." Jongin squeezes his shoulder and pulls him even closer. Kyungsoo can smell his citrus soap and mint aftershave. Jongin smells like spring and summer. "To remind you of home."

Kyungsoo knows he shouldn't. Jongin is just a nice person, with a kind heart. But Kyungsoo still feels the butterflies of hope in his chest spread their wings like wildfire.

"So, let's go?"

This time, Kyungsoo lets himself be led down the aisle, knees weak, the smell of flowers—the smell of home—guiding him forward.

"Why do I feel like we're not heading to Baekhyun's anymore?" Kyungsoo collides with Jongin's broad back as the younger leads him by the wrist through the flow of people. In the middle of the street are food carts selling any and all snacks one can think of, shoppers stopping by a quick bite crowding around them, limiting the space to walk through on either side. It's not a pleasant feeling, bumping and brushing against people in a crowded street, Jongin apologizing to any and all they brush against, but Jongin's hand on Kyungsoo's wrist is warm and solid, an anchor through the sea of strangers milling about.

"Because we're not," Jongin smiles down at him, cheeky and knowing.

Instead of going straight up the main Namdaemun street to turn right towards Myeongdong, Jongin turned left before D Building, his hold tight but soft as he navigates Kyungsoo through the people and vendors. They pause at the intersection when they reach the other end of World, waiting for a delivery motorcycle to pass through. Looking both ways, Jongin leads him through the ginseng stalls, head craning left and right. When he sees what he's looking for, he turns into a familiar narrow alleyway that Kyungsoo knows all too well. Even though he hasn't been here in two years, the strong smell of spices immediately clues him in. They're at Kalchi Alley.

"Hm… where is it…" Jongin mumbles, steps slowing down as he looks through each window they pass. Every shop at Kalchi Alley sells the same thing – kalchi. They sell it grilled, they sell it fried. Some shops sell it marinated. But the most famous of all is kalchi jorim, chunks of kalchi braised in gokucharu stew, with scallions and daikons, onions and leeks softned and simmering in the red thick soup. When Kyungsoo was a freshman, he frequented this alley every week. He tasted every jorim each shop offers. Each bowl varied in spices and ingredients. Some has thicker soup, others have bigger cuts of fish. In the end, Kyungsoo became a regular at the shop that most resembles the taste of his mother's own jorim, a small spot along the middle called Joongang Kalchi Sikdang, its big orange sign at the front saying it's been open for 50 years. And right below it, of course, are printed screenshots of tv shows that have featured the small humble shop. Jongin stops right in front of it. "Aha! Found it!"

"Jongin…"

The younger looks back at him with a triumphant smile, his hold on Kyungsoo's wrist loosening. "Did I get it right, hyung? This is where you said it was, right?"

How did Jongin find it… Kyungsoo only mentioned it once.

"Aw hyung, don't look too surprised. I researched yesterday, remember? Sample the goods first, you said," Jongin looks mighty pleased with himself. "Come on inside hyung, we're blocking the way."

Kyungsoo lets himself get tugged inside. The shop is small, as small as he remembers it. The salamander is outside, so is the cashier and the coffee dispenser. Inside are just a handful of tables, the same square wooden tables and wooden chairs that Kyungsoo remembers from two years ago. They seat themselves at the far right corner just below the wall fan, Jongin placing the bag holding Kyungsoo's potted cactus between them.

They decided on a mammillaria, a variant the shopkeeper called hahniana, a bulbous powder puff cactus, small and prickly with spikes all over. Dotted around it are small buds that should bloom into beautiful pink flowers this spring. The ajhusshi said that when the flowers bloom, they will look like daises. Jongin and him walked around the whole length of the third floor, through all the aisles full of flowers and plants of every variety and color. They spent a long time looking at the familiar plants Kyungsoo remembers from their balcony back in Gwangju but he kept coming back to the small prickly green cactus with it's spikes and budding pink flowers, the same color as Jongin's favorite sweater. In the end, just as the shops were closing for the day, Kyungsoo decided on the small mammillaria and Jongin paid for it.

"I should add a reminder on our calendar for the watering schedule so I don't forget," Kyungsoo announces as Jongin orders their two pots of kalchi jorim. "We can take turns watering it, if you want. It's our house plant, after all."

"Alright," Jongin hums, an impish grin forming on his face. "But only if I get to name him."

"Name him?" Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. "Jongin, it's not a pet."

"I vote for Freddo."

"It's a plant."

"Our plant," Jongin emphasizes. "You said so yourself. So I want to name him Freddo."

Kyungsoo looks at the small mammillaria, round and prickly and green. And then he looks up at Jongin. Big mistake. The younger is looking at the cactus too, lips pouting adorably. Kyungsoo sighs. Why was he ever afraid?

After movie night on Wednesday, Kyungsoo woke up apprehensive. In the clarity of the morning with the security of the darkness gone, Kyungsoo couldn't help but have doubts. But Jongin made it clear, not so much in words but in actions, that nothing has changed between them. Jongin is still Jongin to Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo is still Kyungsoo to him, something Kyungsoo is truly thankful for.

"Well, he is green," Kyungsoo finally says slowly. Jongin's face immediately lights up.

"Right? Freddo's brown since he's made of chocolate, if we're to be technical, but he's still a frog and frogs are green. Cactuses are green," Jongin shrugs like it's the most logical thing in the world. "It's perfect."

"Fine, fine. Freddo it is," Kyungsoo decides with finality, conceding with an indulgent smile to the younger. He pushes Freddo to the side against the wall, the imo bearing a tray of water approaching them. "We only have to water him once a week, anyway."

"And make sure he gets plenty of sunlight," Jongin adds, fully on board now that he's named the cactus. The imo comes with a round silver tray and places a cold water jug and two stainless cups on their table. "Should we put him on my desk then? Since that's where the sun is every morning?"

Kyungsoo thinks about this as Jongin reaches over to fill both their cups with water. "Nah, we should just keep him on the window sill. That way, we don't need to move him to my desk for the afternoon sun." Kyungsoo takes and drinks his cup, thirsty from all the walking they've been doing. Jongin immediately refills it for him.

"True. Neither of us are home until 6 or 7 on Tuesdays and Fridays."

The imo is back a moment later, this time, placing their pots of jorim on the table. She places a bubbling earthen pot of gyeran-jim on the left, a small bowl of fried kalchi chunks on the right and a plate of assorted nappa, scallions and white radish kimchi in the middle. The little bag of unsalted seaweed, she places by the water jug.

Kyungsoo looks down at the beautiful spread before him, mouth watering at the sight alone. The familiar smell of spices takes Kyungsoo back. He closes his eyes for a moment, just smelling the aroma of spicy gochukaru, stewing and brewing kalchi in the small golden ramyun pot. He's missed this, and if he reaches back far enough, he can still recall the smell of flowers from earlier and picture himself at home back in Gwangju, spring flowers in a vase on their mantel and his mother's kalchi jorim on their dining table. But when Kyungsoo opens his eyes a second after, it's not his father and mother on the other side of the table but Kim Jongin – Jongin in his fluffy pink sweater, tongue poking out the side of his lips as he tries and fails to debone the kalchi in his pot with his chopsticks. Kyungsoo glances to his side where Freddo their potted cactus is sitting. Soon, his flowers will bloom too. It's not the same as back home, but it feels familiar, somehow. Like the start of a new habit, a new routine.

"Aish, give me that," Kyungsoo huffs and pulls Jongin's pot towards him, setting his to the side. "Kalchi is pretty easy to debone. Look," Kyungsoo chooses a big chunk and places it on top of the thick stew, it lays there half-submerged in red soup, peppered by flakes of gokucharu. "The bones are just here in the middle and then here on either side," Kyungsoo explains as he works the flesh off the fish and takes out the bone expertly. He's done this a million times since he was a kid but having Jongin look at him in awe boosts his ego a bit, even though it's such a minor and unimpressive thing. "It's mostly all meat." He works on the other chunks. When he's done, he looks up to see Jongin staring at him, elbow on the table, chin propped up on his open palm. Jongin is smiling, gaze steady, and something warm and pleasant stirs in Kyungsoo's gut. He swallows. "What?"

"Nothing," Jongin shakes his head innocently, his smile anything but. Kyungsoo pushes the pot back to him, all the kalchi now deboned. "You have really nice chopstick skills, hyung. Nice fingers too."

Kyungsoo tries his best not to blush. He thought he's already gotten past this stage of his crush. What is this again? It must be the heat. The shop is crowded after all. He looks up again. Jongin is still smiling at him. "Ha, very funny. Compliments don't get you free fish deboning services for life." Kyungsoo tries to sound stern but there's a flush to his cheeks and he knows Jongin can see because the younger just smiles at him like he doesn't believe him. "Learn to debone your own fish next time."

"I'm serious though," Jongin defends himself, and Kyungsoo believes him. "Anyone ever told you that?"

"No," Kyungsoo always hears he's cute or that he's adorable, or he's dependable or responsible. But no one ever compliments him on his physical appearance like Kim Jongin does who dishes them out like candy. "A simple thank you is enough. No need to flatter me. I'm not paying for your meal."

Jongin chuckles at that, eyes disappearing as he laughs. "Why do you think that, hyung? Has no one ever really told you before? They're like, slender but sturdy and strong at the same time." Jongin reaches over the table and lifts Kyungsoo's hand to eye-level, examining his fingers with focus. Kyungsoo's cheeks blaze with heat, his fingertips tingle where Jongin is touching. "See, hyung-" the pad of Jongin's thumb strokes the length of his middle finger. "Long and sturdy."

"Jongin," Kyungsoo swallows, breathing and heart beat a little faster than normal. He's feeling hot under the collar. He should have just worn a simple shirt. In front of him, Jongin doesn't look like he's teasing but he's smiling and Kyungsoo knows that Jongin knows the effect he has on him. Ever since Wednesday, Jongin has gotten bolder with his compliments. And if Kyungsoo has any experience in dating, he would think it's not arrogant to assume that Jongin, this beautiful man in front of him, is flirting with him. That hope he has been harboring, Jongin keeps leading it into courage. "No. No one around me is crazy enough to stare at my fingers to make that observation, no."

"Well, not to offend but you have shite friends then," Jongin says simply, finally dropping Kyungsoo's hand but his touch lingers. Kyungsoo swears he isn't going crazy.

The younger starts on his jorim. He picks at the fish, moving them about. He sets the radishes to the side. Kyungsoo sighs. "Hyung, when someone compliments you, say thank you confidently. You deserve it."

"And what if they don't mean it?" Kyungsoo isn't insecure, but he knows the limitations of his looks and abilities. He's not tall, for one. "And eat your vegetables."

"Then they're just an arse," Jongin shrugs. He starts transferring the radishes to the stainless rice bowl cover. "And no one would be an arsehole to you, hyung. You're too likable and charming for people to be mean to on purpose."

"Lots of people have been mean to me," Kyungsoo corrects him, working on deboning his own pot of fish. "One time in middleschool, a senior socked me in the face because he thought I was glaring at him."

"Ah, what a delightful fellow. And did you return the favor?"

"No! He's a year above me," Kyungsoo looks to see Jongin have successfully de-radished his pot. "Jongin, I swear. Taste the radish first."

"Fine!" Jongin huffs, putting his radishes back into the pot. "But only because you said so."

Kyungsoo can't believe Jongin is so bad with vegetables. The only vegetable he consumes is cabbage and only if it's in the form of kimchi. That or the vegetables are cut up in too small pieces that he can't recognize them as vegetables. Kyungsoo always ends up eating all of Jongin's if his meal came with any. "You used to hate cucumber but now you eat it."

"That's only because you promised to watch a movie with me that first week, remember?" Jongin counters, loading his spoon of rice with fish and radish, drenched in the thick red soup. No doubt trying to mask the radish with all the fish. "I wouldn't have otherwise, to be honest."

"Do you mean to say you only ate the veggie salad I got from Gusto Taco because I said I'd watch a movie with you?"

Jongin nods, cheeks stuffed with his huge bite. When he's finally chewed and swallowed his mouthful, he says, "Yeah, because you said we can watch a movie if we order that in with the cheese nachos." He looks confused. "Why else would I eat vegetables if not for you?"

Kyungsoo doesn't know what to say. This is new information to him. He only said that in jest to deter the younger from ordering. Instead, Jongin went on and bought all the food Kyungsoo said he wanted. Kyungsoo had no choice but to set his laptop up for them to watch Looper, Jongin accidentally breaking his lamp halfway into the movie. That was their first movie night. And it's been tradition ever since.

"Hey, this isn't so bad," Jongin nibbles on a radish by its lonesome. Kyungsoo doesn't get to say I told you so, which he would have if he isn't currently trying to process the meaning behind Jongin's words. "Speaking of movies. What do you want to watch when we get home?"

That snaps Kyungsoo out his thoughts enough to ask, "Watch?"

"Yeah, or do you want to head to a cinema after? Or we can just go back home and do our usual movie night setup like usual." Jongin shrugs, smiling that charming smile of his at Kyungsoo. He's started on the unsalted seaweed, dipping the kim into the stew and scooping leeks and pieces of radish into his mouth with it. "Either way is fine by me, really."

"But it's not movie night," Kyungsoo is not following. In front of him, Jongin gestures with his hand that Kyungsoo try the unsalted seaweed and stew combo, busy chewing his huge mouthful. "And I thought you said you have to work on your slides for a group presentation on Monday. Don't you have a meeting tomorrow? To practice? And please chew properly."

Jongin chews slowly, properly and then says, "That's not important, hyung. I can work on my slides tomorrow." He waves his hand like it's no big deal. He takes another kim and begins making a wrap. "So what do you want to watch? I was thinking maybe When Harry Met Sally. That one's a classic. Have you seen that, hyung? Or if you want something more recent, I heard About Time is also a good date night movie."

"I haven't seen both-"

Wait.

Did Kyungsoo mishear?

Did Jongin just say-

"-date night movie?"

"I can check what movies are playing at CGV right now," Jongin maneuvers his left hand to take his phone out of his right pocket, his right hand holding greasy kim. He pushes his seat back to reach it. "We can take a taxi, so you don't have to walk."

Kyungsoo knows his brain hasn't caught up yet because there's a buzzing in his ears, like static. He's still trying to make sense of the veggie salad revelation and now this. He's hearing his thoughts arranging themselves into something coherent but the processing is yet to finish. It reads like random strings of word. Did Jongin really just say-

"Jongin," Kyungsoo's voice is very calm but inside, his nerves are on haywire.

"Yeah?" Jongin is scrolling through his phone. "Decided on a movie yet?"

The butterflies always flying about in his chest, the ones he thought of as hope, they're awfuly still now. Quiet. There's anticipation. Kyungsoo breathes.

"Is this a date?"

Jongin stops scrolling and looks up at Kyungsoo. There's a very tiny little smile on his lips. He looks bashful, almost. "Well, no," Jongin straightens in his seat. Does he look nervous? He sounds nervous. Kyungsoo feels nervous. "Not yet, anyway."

"But-" Kyungsoo thinks of what to say. "-it's Black Day," he reasons lamely.

And Jongin must think so too, because he laughs, happy and bright, and just like that, the look of uncertainty in his face is gone. He leans in across the table and pointedly looks at Freddo, sitting innocently on their table, "Flowers," he looks down on their half-eaten pots of jorim, "Dinner," and then he shakes his phone where the CGV booking app is open, "And a movie. Sounds like a date to me."

It does. It does sound like a date. But Kyungsoo's never been on a date. Unless he counts that one playdate his mother forced him on with the girl who lives a floor below them when he was seven. Other than that, his experience with romance is very limited, given his preference. The only times he's acted on his desires were those few experimental nights two years ago. And those were at gay bars and love motels in Itaewon. They hardly count as dates, in his opinion.

So is this really a date then? Kyungsoo's stomach is in twists. Restless.

Jongin must have noticed the quiet panic raging inside him because he says, "Hyung, listen," voice low and gentle. Around them, the other patrons are busy eating, talking among themselves. The chatter is not loud but the room is not quiet either. Jongin puts the kim and his phone down, his focus entirely on Kyungsoo now. "This is a date, hyung. But only if you want it to be."

And there it is. The look that turned Kyungsoo's initial physical attraction into an unwelcome crush. Jongin is looking at him across the table with sincere eyes, soft and fond. It's a look that Kyungsoo has seen many times and it's the look that has watered the flutter of butterflies in his chest into hope, tangible and possible. When Jongin looks at him with those eyes, Kyungsoo feels important, cared for. Like he's the center of someone's universe, if only for that brief moment that Jongin's eyes are on him. It has made Kyungsoo feel more confident, feel more at ease with himself. Every compliment Jongin has told him with that same sincere look and soft mellow eyes, it has allowed Kyungsoo wings, has brought himself out.

Jongin is a gift, Kyungsoo realizes. And he's here for Kyungsoo to take, if he so chooses. And Kyungsoo wants. He does, so very much.

The laughter that bubbles from him is a mixture of relief and disbelief. Jongin raises an eyebrow but Kyungsoo just shakes his head with his own little smile. The confidence in him grows wings and takes flight. Kyungsoo breathes in, out. If he'll dive in, he might as well submerge all the way. "Before I decide if it's a date," Kyungsoo begins carefully, cautiously. Jongin nods encouragingly at him to continue. "I'd like to sample the goods first."

Jongin doesn't move at first, he sits almost stunned, still and unmoving for a second or two. Kyungsoo feels the blush spread across his cheeks, engulfing his ears until his whole face feels like its on fire. His heart is going proper mad in his rib cage. Did he go overboard? Was that too much? Did he just ruin his chance-

But then Jongin moves and Kyungsoo sees the change happen in quick succession. Jongin's lips curl up into a lopsided smile, a smirk that schools his face into something dangerous. He leans back and tilts his head, the sharp cut of his jaw presenting itself at Kyungsoo like an offering, "I don't put out on the first date, hyung." His eyes darken," But for you I'd make an exception."

Kyungsoo gulps.

Jongin picks his phone up and pockets it again. "And we're skipping the movies. I hope you're okay with that."

Under the table, Jongin extends his leg towards Kyungsoo, the younger's ankle warm as it brushes against his own. Kyungsoo nods again and Jongin bites his lip with chuckle. Kyungsoo feels excitement stir in the pit of his stomach. Briefly, very briefly, he wonders what he's gotten himself into.

The hope in his chest, it is now long gone. In its place sits desire.

As he said he would, Jongin paid for their pots of jorim, insisting the dinner was his treat. Kyungsoo had no choice but to let the younger despite his strong protests, his argument skills lacking, still processing the events that has transpired in the span of one meal. Jongin was carrying on as usual while Kyungsoo felt like he was operating on autopilot. He was walking and conversing with Jongin, seeing and laughing as they went along the streets but the static in his brain has yet to return to regular programming. He's still hearing the buzz in his ears and the thoughts are still swimming in his head.

And now this.

Jongin has his hand on the small of his back, the touch of it searing through his plaid button-up. The familiar walk from the elevator to their door seems shorter than usual with the warm presence of Jongin's body right beside him. They've been talking about the weather, Jongin complaining about the light drizzle they had to walk through but Kyungsoo is barely listening, simply nodding along. In his head, he is miles away with worry and anticipation. He isn't uncertain but he is nervous, inexperienced but not without experience. Will Jongin be able to tell?

Beside him, Jongin presses his key card to their door lock, the melodious ding-ding-ding ringing in the otherwise quiet corridor. He moves to let Kyungsoo inside first, holding the door open for him as he always does.

"After you, hyung," Jongin says, polite, but there is a new and darker shine in his eyes.

Inside, Kyungsoo moves to take his shoes off on the mat, placing Freddo by his feet as he bends down to untie his shoes. He tries his best to calm himself down with slow counts of one two one two two. He succeeds if only for a brief second. Behind him, he hears the click of the door closing, the beep of the lock as it settles and in the very next moment, finds himself pressed against their apartment door, Jongin's long arms caging him in with his taller frame. Kyungsoo doesn't have time to blink, doesn't even have time to ask, as the younger steps closer and closer until all Kyungsoo can see is Jongin's stupidly handsome face looking down on him.

"Hi," Jongin greets him with a smile.

"Hi," Kyungsoo replies, breathless.

Jongin leans down slowly, his breath fanning across Kyungsoo's heated face as he nears. Kyungsoo's backpack is painfully digging into his back as waits, and waits, but Jongin doesn't kiss him. Not yet. Instead, Kyungsoo feels warm lips against his ear as the younger whispers, "You're nervous."

Kyungsoo doesn't deny it. "A bit."

Jongin chuckles, low and deep, and Kyungsoo feels it more than he hears it, the younger's lips moving against the shell of his ear. It sets Kyungsoo's heart racing. "We can still stop," Jongin presses closer, arms caging Kyungsoo in the tight little space. They don't touch but Kyungsoo's whole body feels alight with anticipation. "We don't have to start here," Jongin's lips move to brush against the hollow of Kyungsoo's temple, pressing a soft kiss that makes Kyungsoo's eyelids flutter shut. "I can take you out for coffee first," Jongin's lips travel to the bridge of Kyungsoo's nose and there, another ghost of a kiss. "Or I can take you out for a movie," this time, Jongin's lips trace the path across Kyungsoo's cheeks and in its wake blossoms heat. "Or I can take you out for dinner," Jongin kisses the side of Kyungsoo's mouth, tenderly. So close. "Or-"

"Or you can just kiss me now," Kyungsoo's says, tone firm but voice a shaky exhale. He opens his eyes to meet Jongin's own, staring at him with a challenge. "You talk like we haven't gone out for coffee, watched movies or had dinner. Ever."

"Do I?" Jongin knows what he's doing. There's a cheeky smile playing on his lips. Jongin crowds around him even closer. He can feel the younger's body heat through his clothes now. Leveled like this, face to face, Kyungsoo thinks Jongin is the perfect height for him. Kyungsoo's face only reaches up to Jongin's neck, the hollow junction at the base right in front of his lips. If Kyungsoo moves forward, if he presses forward-

He presses forward.

-he can kiss it.

He kisses it.

Jongin doesn't react for a split-second, and Kyungsoo was free to push against the solid warm heat of Jongin's body that's been teasing him. Kyungsoo slides the offending backpack digging painfully on his lower back down the floor, hands finding themselves on Jongin’s hips to pull their bodies closer together.

"Hyung-" Jongin's voice is surprised.

Kyungsoo is inexperienced but it's easier to take what he wants when he's imagined it so much in his head that doing it feels like a recurring dream.

"Hyu-"

Encouraged, he peppers a map of light kisses on the warm inviting skin of Jongin's neck, the younger letting out warm breathy exhales. He kisses down the column of it, feels Jongin's adam's apple move beneath his lips. It's right in front of him, no need to stand on the tip of his toes or bend down. It's just the perfect height for him to kiss and, if he so wants, the perfect height for him to bury his face into the warm crook of it. And so he does. Jongin smells like his citrus soap. There's a faint hint of something floral too, something that could have clung to the younger's clothes from the flower shops. Kyungsoo inhales, nipping at the warm taut skin beneath his lips. Jongin moans, the low timbre of it shooting straight to Kyungsoo's dick. He breathes.

"I-" Jongin moves, hands landing on Kyungsoo's shoulders as he pushes ever so slightly forward, firmly, leaving Kyungsoo with no choice but to throw his full weight against the hard door behind him. He looks up to see Jongin's pupils already blown and dark, midnight black. "Hyung, wait-"

Kyungsoo tries for Jongin's neck again, his hold on the younger's waist pulling their hips flush against each other's. He stills, eyes widening when he feels the growing outline of Jongin's cock against his thigh, hot and heavy against his jeans. Kyungsoo's hips buck on instinct, grinding against the hardening length trapped between them. The friction against his own forming erection is a welcome relief. Kyungsoo does it again. And again. And again.

Jongin manages a shaky laugh, caught between a moan, a faint dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks right in front of Kyungsoo's eyes. "I've told you-" Jongin breathes heavy against his ear. It tickles. "I have a sensitive neck and-" He tries to trap Kyungsoo, "I'm trying to take this slow. Hyung, please," he kicks the backpack on the floor to the side to gain the upper hand. "You have no idea how many times I've imagined pushing you against this very door-" and finally manages to press Kyungsoo's shoulders firmly flat on the hardwood, holding him in place. Jongin takes a small step back. "-ever since I first saw you walk through it. You have no idea, hyung, no idea."

This stops Kyungsoo effectively, allowing Jongin to breathe easier and rest his forehead on Kyungsoo's own, panting warm puffs of air between their reddened faces, breathing heavy.

Did Kyungsoo hear right? Or did he mishear? The static in his ears might have grown louder than before. Kyungsoo knows Jongin isn't lying because Jongin never lies to him. Has never lied to him. Jongin gains nothing by lying when it's Kyungsoo who asked, who's offering, who's kissing him.

Kyungsoo tries to think back, tries to replay the last two months of his life in reverse. He remembers most of it, all of it. It's a short period of time to remember. And Jongin is in all of them, in every moment of it, in every smile and laughter of it.

Kyungsoo's freshman year was littered with self-doubt and loathing, of hating and wondering why he couldn't just fit in. But at the end of it found himself trying, experimenting and indulging. It's been two years of accepting and two years since he's gone home, prolonging facing his mother and father, too afraid to disappoint them once they know. But these past two months he's forgotten about the worry and the fear. Jongin has been his ray of sunshine, with his pretty smile that stretches across his beautiful face, scrunching up his bright chocolate eyes that sees right through Kyungsoo like he's known him for decades. Kyungsoo's return to university has been nothing like his freshman year. Now he has friends. Now he has courage to finally go home. Now he has Jongin. Nowadays, simply put, he is happy.

Kyungsoo supposes hope is indeed born out of optimism, and he was optimistic because for the very first time, he has reason to be.

"Slow?" he decides to ask, feeling determined. He feels Jongin's lips smile against the tip of his nose at the question. "But I didn't ask for slow."

Jongin's throaty laugh is answer enough. Kyungsoo hears him sigh and feels a feather-light kiss on his forehead. "Alright, hyung, alright." Jongin's hold on his shoulder eases. He shakes his head. "Unfair, so unfair. You know I can never say no to you. But I guess slow can wait for later," Jongin takes the step he moved back forward, properly pinning Kyungsoo to the door with his broad frame. And then Jongin is kissing him.

Kyungsoo knows what he was expecting, knows what he wanted. He was teased and promised a kiss. But Jongin's lips finally on his still surprises him, still takes his breath away. Jongin is kissing him gently, slowly. His lips are plush and warm as they move against Kyungsoo's own. Kyungsoo didn't ask for slow, but the way Jongin kisses him pushed and trapped against the door, body hot and solid against his has him reeling, feeling heady, mind spinning. Kyungsoo feels the younger's hands move up from their hold on his shoulders; one up the back of his neck and stays there, fingers curling at the bristle of short hairs it finds and pulling him closer, one continues their journey to his cheek, Jongin cupping it gently in the palm of his hand.

Jongin knows how to kiss, Kyungsoo realizes. His lips push and pulls, nips and licks. He lets Kyungsoo breathe and then dives in again. It leaves a thrill of anticipation up Kyungsoo's spine, the brief second of air only to be stolen of it again and again. And then Jongin's tongue is swiping on his lips, pushing between insistently. Kyungsoo graciously welcomes the intrusion. Jongin tastes like the mint honey ice cream they shared on the way home, fresh and sweet, familiar and yet new. Their noses bump and Jongin lets out a breathy laugh, tilts his head the other way and finally closes the one remaining inch of distance he's maintained. Jongin sucks on Kyungsoo's tongue the same time he pushes his hips flush against Kyungsoo's. Kyungsoo lets out a moan that Jongin swallows, the hardening length of the younger's cock from earlier rock hard now, straining against his jeans. It's delicious friction and Kyungsoo can only tighten his hold on Jongin's waist as the younger rolls his hips into his again and again, arousal pooling in Kyungsoo like he's never felt before.

"Bed," Jongin gasps into his mouth with a moan. He tugs Kyungsoo with him, pulling as he walks the short distance to Kyungsoo's bed backwards.

"No, no," Kyungsoo protests, his hold on the younger's waist tight as he steers the other way. "Your bed."

Jongin chuckles, a low and deep rumble of his chest that Kyungsoo feels against his. "Why? You just changed your sheets?"

They cross the small room to the other side where Jongin pushes him down, Kyungsoo landing on the bed with a soft bounce. "That too but," he laughs, almost breathless as he looks up at Jongin's gorgeous face, scooting up the narrow bed to the headboard, Jongin kneeling over him with swollen pink lips. And oh, Kyungsoo thinks. He did that. He kissed Kim Jongin and did that. He smiles at the thought, reaching up to cup the younger's face and hesitantly admits, "Your bed smells like you, is why."

Jongin sucks in a sharp breath and for a second Kyungsoo wonders if that came out wrong, but then Jongin bends down and he's kissing him again, and again, and again. Only this time, nothing about Jongin's kisses are gentle or slow, his hips rolling down deliciously against Kyungsoo's own. "I bet that's why-" Jongin says in between, lips hot and insistent. "I bet that's why you always wear my sweaters, huh, hyung?"

There's no reason to deny, especially when Kyungsoo has his hands running up and down the soft fabric of Jongin's pink sweater as he kisses the younger back, feeling the hard planes of Jongin's chest down to his taut stomach. Kyungsoo braves a hand under the offending garment, wanting to feel Jongin's skin with his own fingertips. He wants to run his hands across the dips and grooves he can feel through the sweater, and feel the warm hot skin against his own. His fingers inch under but before he can go further, Jongin lifts up from him, eyes lidded, lips moist and red.

"Hyung, do you want to-" Jongin pants, steadies his breathing then swallows, "Do you want to fuck me or can I fuck you?"

Kyungsoo's fingers still. He doesn't know what to answer, suddenly aware of sensations other than his kiss-bruised lips. All he knows is that the question stirs heat up his belly from his aching cock, straining against his jeans. But more than that, Kyungsoo feels desire deep within him, the kind that he satisfies in the early mornings under the running shower spray, but only when the younger is still sleeping.

"What do you want, hyung?" Jongin asks him again, voice gentle but eyes dark. Jongin moves to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing across it tenderly. "Tell me."

In those mornings, Kyungsoo is always afraid Jongin would wake up and hear, and so he tries his best to keep his moans quiet and controlled, his fingers never really enough to satisfy him. He always aches for something else, someone else. Kyungsoo would be lying if he says he's never imagined Jongin with him in the heat of those moments and in all of his fantasies, he's always pictured the younger behind him, above him, fucking him open, fast and good. He's imagined riding Jongin on his desk while watching a movie, on his bed before they sleep. He's imagined it all. In the early mornings, it's easy to spin tall fantasies and forget them when the sun rises. Did he ever feel guilty? The first times, yes.

Now, however, Jongin is right here with him, above him. But this is no fantasy. There is no need for hope now.

"Fuck me," Kyungsoo whispers, low and needy. His answer rips a smile right across Jongin's face, a devilish grin. "I want you to fuck me."

"Good," Jongin says simply, satisfied, and then he dips down to claim Kyungsoo's lips again, soft kisses that contrasts against his obvious intent. Kyungsoo wants to continue his hands' journey up and under the younger's sweater, but Jongin is too close now. He settles them on Jongin's waist instead, gripping the heavy fabric of the younger's jeans with his fingertips. He hooks his thumb through a loop and pulls.

"I said fuck me, not kiss me."

Jongin laughs against his lips, the sound of it vibrating against his chest. Kyungsoo would've blushed but his cheeks are already flushed. He doesn't beg. He is never needy. This part of himself is unfamiliar even to him, foreign and a stranger. Jongin must think so too because he smiles and murmurs, "Bossy but hot. I like it."

"'M not bossy," Kyungsoo tries to deny but his need outweighs his pride because in the next second he pulls again and murmurs, "Jongin, please."

"Alright, alright," Jongin concedes, smirk still in place as he begins his descent, planting soft feather light kisses along Kyungsoo's jaw, tracing the line of it with his soft plush lips down the column of Kyungsoo's neck. Kyungsoo tilts his head, inviting and welcoming the attention. He sighs with each kiss, each press of Jongin's lips on his skin hot and electric. A hand slides down his arm, down his side and then under and up his button up. Jongin's fingertips burn on his skin but he still shudders at the sensation, back arching slightly into the touch.

Kyungsoo has been kissed before, has had hands on him before, but Jongin's lips on him feels like a first time, like a revelation. Kyungsoo realizes he has a sensitive spot right under his jaw where Jongin's mouth is lavishing special attention, sucking, nipping and licking over and over the small patch of skin. Underneath his shirt, Jongin is playing invisible keys as he presses and scratches with ghost-like touch. Kyungsoo doesn't even try to stop the string of breathy moans that escapes his lips with each swipe of the younger's tongue. And finally when satisfied, Jongin lifts up on his knees, face determined as he begins the arduous task of unbuttoning Kyungsoo's plaid button up.

"Why must you wear something so offensive, hyung?" Jongin pops one, two buttons open.

"You said I look good in plaid," Kyungsoo reasons, reaching up to help.

"Buttons offend me," Jongin looks slightly annoyed, struggling a little. He huffs, "Too much effort to take off. I forbid you to wear them ever again."

"What to do?" Kyungsoo chuckles as he helps unbutton the very last one, lifting himself up to slide the sleeves off his arms. Above him, Jongin exclaims a soft Aha! and tugs the garment off Kyungsoo completely. Kyungsoo shivers, the cold air greeting his bare skin. He lies, "I already bought a bunch of plaids after you told me you liked me in them."

Jongin sighs, exaggeratedly long and suffering as he throws the crumpled button up somewhere in the room, "In that case, I guess I'll just have to live with it." Jongin looks down at him, and all at once, Kyungsoo feels self-conscious of his body, arms coming up to shield himself from Jongin's gaze. But Jongin catches his hands in his, "Don't. Don't hide, hyung."

Kyungsoo blushes madly, the heat in his cheeks engulfing his whole face. There's always a second of fear in these moments, when he takes his shirt off in front of someone else. Even in the army, where everyone showers together, sweats together, changes together. He always feels self-conscious, not because of how he looks but because of what others would think. He's a private person. To be so exposed to someone else will always carry fear in him. He's only had sex in dimly lit love hotels in Itaewon, with the dark curtains pulled close and the bedside lamp the only source of light. Right now, their flimsy checkered curtain is open in one side, spring afternoon sun hanging low close to setting but there is still light. Kyungsoo can see Jongin clearly and he is sure, Jongin can see him just as clearly too.

Kyungsoo's eyes dart left and right, unable to meet Jongin's gaze. But then he feels hands sliding down his torso, from his neck to his clavicle, across his collarbone. The touch is gentle but sure, a soft caress. Kyungsoo looks up to see Jongin's dark eyes following the path his hand is taking, down the middle of Kyungsoo's chest, his smooth stomach to his bellybutton and stopping there, only to make its way back up again.

"So pretty," Jongin murmurs in wonder, almost reverently. "So beautiful." Kyungsoo shivers at the words more than the touch, the heat from his cheeks blazing a trail down his aching cock. Jongin thinks he's pretty, thinks he's beautiful. Arousal tingles down his spine with each touch of Jongin's fingertips. His hips bucking up involuntarily, in need of attention. He wants friction. He wants to pull Jongin closer to him, all over him. He tugs his hands free from Jongin's loose hold. The younger easily relents and lets go only for him to dive down and attach his mouth to the spot he lovingly left a red blossoming patch on mere moments ago. It stings, Kyungsoo's hands finding purchase in Jongin's soft locks as the younger continues his journey down with his lips instead of his hands. He kisses down down down, tongue painting Kyungsoo's skin with hot strokes that has Kyungsoo arching his back and wanting for more.

Kyungsoo's soft exhales of pleasure stream constantly from his lips until Jongin's searching tongue reaches his chest, the hot wet muscle swiping across his nipple. Kyungsoo gasps as Jongin closes his lips around the nub, sucking and licking it into perkiness, his hand rubbing and rolling the other with his fingers. Kyungsoo shudders from the unexpected sensations, fingers tightening their hold on the younger's hair, pulling, fingertips scrambling for something to hold onto as Jongin's tongue flicks and swirls hot and wet across and around it. Jongin moans into his skin, the air and sound of it hitting the sensitive pink flesh. And then he moves, only to kiss across and pay the same treatment to the other, his hand switching, swiping and tugging. Jongin is gentle but his fingers are rough and the contrast is delicious, intoxicating. Kyungsoo feels his arousal spreading from the pit of his stomach, creeping and crawling across his skin wherever Jongin is touching. Kyungsoo's cock aches and throbs in his jeans, painful and straining. He feels precum ooze at the attention, each kiss of Jongin's lips leaving fiery embers in its wake. It's been so long. He tries to rub himself up against the younger, but Jongin pushes him, pins him down and that too, stirs arousal so strong in Kyungsoo that he can't help but whine, low and needy and breathless.

"Pants," he whimpers, beyond all reason. "Jeans, Jongin. Off. Off please."

He feels Jongin smile against his skin, lips traveling further south, smacking a trail of tender kisses down Kyungsoo's chest to his soft smooth stomach, the younger's hands sliding down his sides and settling on his hips, rubbing circles as he murmurs between kisses, "Patience, hyung. Patience."

Kyungsoo ignores him, tugs on his hair again, tight and urgent. Jongin moans at the action, Kyungsoo belatedly realizing that Jongin likes it, that Jongin enjoys it. He does it again and sure enough, Jongin stops his kissing to moan loud and hot against Kyungsoo's stomach. He looks up at Kyungsoo through his lashes, dark and hazy with desire. Is that how Kyungsoo looks? Kyungsoo feels worse, he feels out of touch, delirious. He's afraid that when Jongin eventually touches his cock, he's going to come in one stroke. Kyungsoo pulls again, trying to get Jongin to come up so he can take his pants off but instead Jongin growls, a sound that rumbles so deep in his chest Kyungsoo feels his cock twitch, interested and in need of attention.

"Hyung…" Jongin warns.

"Off," Kyungsoo pleads. He doesn't care how he sounds like anymore. He can worry about that later when he has enough brain power to chastise himself. Now, he just wants release, wants Jongin's hand on his cock, wants Jongin all over him, on him, in him. "Off, off, off," he chants like a mantra, like a spell that if he says enough times might hypnotize Jongin into doing his bidding. It doesn't work so he tugs Jongin's hair again, twisting the soft silky strands through his fingers, hoping it will get Jongin moving, will get him where Kyungsoo wants him.

This time, it works. Because in the next second, Jongin lifts up and kneels over him, fingers popping the button of Kyungsoo's jeans. Jongin doesn't look harried, he's not scrambling in a frenzy but he's fast and efficient. He has Kyungsoo's zipper down in an instant, sliding the restricting denim down, his face focused. He's quiet, working wordlessly, breathing heavy. Kyungsoo is all too happy to help, lifting his ass up to tug the pants down faster. Jongin peels it off him slowly, gently. He throws it casually behind him and looks down at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo would be shy, more embarrassed than taking his shirt off like he normally is, but his arousal is clouding all of his faculties. His cock throbs. The hateful zipper that had been painfully pressing down on it is gone, now lying somewhere on the floor beneath them. Jongin is still looking, still staring down at him. Kyungsoo's heart is beating like an out of tune drum in his chest. Then Jongin reaches out, eyes hungry. Kyungsoo feels Jongin's finger land on the tip of his cock, tracing the wet spot through his boxers. Kyungsoo jolts, his hips bucking into the air at the touch.

"Jongin wha-"

Jongin's curious finger circles around the tip, teasing along the outline of it, making Kyungsoo moan and squirm where Jongin has him pinned. "You're so wet, hyung," he murmurs in wonder. He looks up at Kyungsoo, eyes so dark with want and declares, "I want to suck you off." 

Jongin immediately gets to work, hooking his fingers on the band of Kyungsoo's boxers and in the very next second the black garment is gone and off in one swift tug. Kyungsoo doesn't have time to react, doesn't even have time to process Jongin's words before the younger is bending down and taking Kyungsoo's cock into his mouth.

Kyungsoo's whole body jolts up in surprise. He moans so loud he hears the sound reverberate around their tiny apartment. Jongin's hold on his hips tighten, pushing him firmly down in place as his mouth works on Kyungsoo's aching cock. He starts on the tip he was just caressing, pressing open mouthed kisses on the head. His tongue swirls under, concentrating at the spot below it over and over. He knows the sensitive spots, knows how to make Kyungsoo whimper. He works his way down the shaft, licking and kissing the length of it. He laps the precum smeared over and under, moaning appreciatively as he goes. He laps at Kyungsoo's balls, hot and wet and foreign. He doesn't stay down for long however because he makes his way back up right after, hand holding Kyungsoo's cock in place for him.

Kyungsoo is breathing heavily, he doesn't know what to do. The pressure he's been feeling now feels sharper, concentrated. He chances a look down and meets eyes with Jongin and his breath gets stuck in his throat. He shouldn't have. Because what he sees is Kim Jongin's eyes, lidded and soft and dark. His lips are glistening with spit and Kyungsoo's precum. And then he licks it clean, moves and sinks his gorgeous plush lips down the head of it and sucks. Kyungsoo's whole world shrinks in that instant, his whole body set aflame. Jongin's mouth is sweet sweet hot heat, velvety wet hot heat and Kyungsoo is weak. He doesn't want to come so soon. He staves off the pressure, keeps it at bay and allows it to creep around and all over him, the tightness of his whole body like a bow primed for release.

"Jongin, stop-" he tugs at Jongin's hair with shaky hands. He can barely wrap his fingers around the younger's hair. "I need- Please, I'm gonna come, stop."

Jongin doesn't stop. Jongin ignores him, continuous his task like it's a job. He bobs his head up and down, his pink lips stretched around Kyungsoo's cock as he works his mouth open around and over it. And that fact, that very fact that Kim Jongin's lips, the same lips that always smiles so prettily at Kyungsoo, that never fails to make Kyungsoo's heart flutter in his chest, those same lips are now wrapped around his cock, sucking him, hot and wet and warm, pressing hot searing kisses up and down his shaft, licking every drop of precum that oozes out of his leaking tip – that fact, that sight alone sends Kyungsoo so close to the edge he has to look away. But he wants to keep looking, wants to see how Jongin is treating him so good. And then Jongin hollows his cheeks and Kyungsoo keens, the feeling so unexpected he trembles. The walls of Jongin's mouth close around him, tight and so new. Kyungsoo can't stop his hips. They start moving out of their own accord, bucking up the warm wetness of Jongin's mouth. Jongin's hands hold his thighs open, thumb kneading and pressing and stroking Kyungsoo's sensitive flesh as his mouth bobs up and down in time with the shallow stutters of Kyungsoo's hips. He lets Kyungsoo fuck his mouth open, nice and slow. It's nothing fast, nothing hard but it's pleasant, it's hot and it's vulgar. Jongin moans around Kyungsoo's cock so appreciatively, so lovingly with his eyes closed, lashes fanning his cheeks. And Jongin looks so beautiful, so gorgeous with his mouth full of Kyungsoo's cock that Kyungsoo almost cries real tears when Jongin lifts himself up.

"You liked that, hyung?"

Kyungsoo can't even nod his head. He breathes, ragged and heavy. Jongin makes his way up his body and kisses him, square in the mouth and bruising. Jongin's lips are red and swollen and he tastes like Kyungsoo. Jongin kisses him hard and insistent, hands holding Kyungsoo's face in place as he fucks Kyungsoo's mouth with his tongue the same way Kyungsoo was fucking his mouth with his cock just mere seconds ago. It's hot and fast and Kyungsoo has never felt like this, like he's caught in a dangerous whirlwind. He wants more. He reaches for Jongin's hips to pull the younger closer, hand coming in contact with the soft fabric of Jongin's pink sweater. And oh, he realizes. Jongin is still fully clothed while he's stark naked on the younger's bed.

"Clothes," he complains, tugging at the hem of the offending pink sweater he loves so much. "Off."

This time, Jongin is quick to listen. Jongin kneels up again, pulling and taking off the sweater up and over his head. Kyungsoo has seen Jongin with no shirt on before, and it has fueled many morning wanking sessions. But not in this context, no. Jongin looms above him, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Jongin looks good. Too good to be true that Kyungsoo reaches a tentative hand up to touch him. Jongin smirks down at him, pupils blown. He reaches over his desk at the head of the bed, his glorious chest right in front of Kyungsoo's face. Kyungsoo can't help it. He touches what he's always wanted to touch. He trails his fingers down, from the collarbone to the hard planes of Jongin's chest, past hard nipples that Kyungsoo flicks and rubs with his thumb.

"Hyung," Jongin warns above him, voice low and dangerous.

Kyungsoo stops. He hears a drawer opening, hears the rustle of papers and pens being moved, his fingers tracing the pattern of moles the younger has on his chest while he waits. He doesn't wait long. Jongin straightens back up on his knees after a moment, bringing with him a clear tube and a packet of condom. The bottle of lube is almost empty. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow and Jongin chuckles as he answers the question on Kyungsoo's face, "Living with you is hard, hyung. Literally hard."

Jongin leans down and kisses Kyungsoo again, the urgency and force of it mellowed down. Jongin is back to kissing him slow, torturous and tender. Kyungsoo likes the rolling wave of intensity in which Jongin is treating him, the rise and fall of his kisses and his touches that teases, that pulls and then pushes. Jongin's lips linger as he lifts up, the unmistakable pop of a button and the sound of his zipper opening following soon after. Kyungsoo can only look on as Jongin rises to take his pants off with little difficulty, all the while looking at Kyungsoo with that same look of desire he's had since he pushed Kyungsoo against their apartment door. The tide in Kyungsoo has subsided but the pressure of it is still present as he sees Jongin take off the last piece of clothing he has on, finally freeing the cock Kyungsoo has been fantasizing in and out of his daydreams. It springs free, bouncing up Jongin's taut abdomen before it settles, hard and thick and leaking. Kyungsoo's mouth waters.

Jongin's cock is not unlike how Kyungsoo's imagined it. It's the same sun-kissed caramel sand of Jongin's skin, set on a small patch of dark hair that runs up into a light happy trail up Jongin's navel. And the length of it, longer than his, longer than any Kyungsoo has seen before. It's thick and he wants it. Now that he's seen it, Kyungsoo wants it even more.

Jongin catches his hand midair. Kyungsoo blinks, unaware that he was reaching. "But-"

"If you touch me now," Jongin looks so serious, but his voice is strained. "I'm going to cum before I can even fuck you. Do you want that, hyung?" Kyungsoo shakes his head no. "Then behave."

Kyungsoo is rewarded for his nod by Jongin returning to him, his lips back on Kyungsoo's lips, his hand running up and down Kyungsoo's sides, but it's different this time, because now Kyungsoo can feel Jongin, all of him, his warm skin on Kyungsoo's skin, the ridges of his abs against the smoothness of Kyungsoo's stomach. And his cock, hard and heavy pressed against the side of Kyungsoo's thigh. Kyungsoo thinks he can get used to this. Kissing Kim Jongin with him wrapped all over and around him. Jongin feels like a warm blanket, surrounding him with a pleasant heat on the outside but burning him like inferno fire from the inside. But he's taking too long and Kyungsoo is impatient. Didn't he say he didn't want slow?

"Any minute now," Kyungsoo murmurs against Jongin's lips. He thinks back to all the time Jongin teased him for walking too slow and adds, "Hopefully sometime before Christmas."

Jongin laughs, short and breathy as he kisses down Kyungsoo's jaw, lifting himself up and hovering above. "Bossy bratty impatient hyung," he says, hand trailing down Kyungsoo's thighs which he parts, Kyungsoo opening them without resistance. He hears a cap opening, faint through the thunder in his ears from the way Jongin is caressing his thighs, fingers trailing lower and lower, tracing circles as they near where the ache in Kyungsoo is strongest. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Because I'm not," Kyungsoo shouldn't deny but he still does on principle. Jongin's wandering fingers move back up, arm bracing himself above as he continues to plant soft kisses all over Kyungsoo's face. "'M not impatient."

"Liar," Jongin accuses him with a sweet smile the same moment Kyungsoo feels cold wetness touch his thigh, inching closer and closer until it reaches where Kyungsoo needs it the most. Still Kyungsoo gasps, breath stuttering as Jongin's finger massages the ring of muscle around his entrance, teasing, touch feather light as he swipes the cold lube around it, across it, never lingering too long. Kyungsoo's thighs quake, keeping them open with effort. He shudders with each touch, his balls seizing up at the sensation. He got off using his fingers just yesterday morning, Jongin's class not until the afternoon. But it's been two years since he's had someone else touch him so intimately. And no one else has touched him so tenderly, the way Jongin is mouthing at his neck, his finger pressing across the pucker of Kyungsoo's entrance only to leave and circle around the rim over and over again. It's driving Kyungsoo crazy with want. He wants. And he wants more.

"Kim Jongin, I swear to go-"

Jongin finally presses his slick finger inside, the slide in smooth and easy. Kyungsoo sucks in a quiet inhale, the feeling so familiar and yet so foreign. Jongin's finger is longer, thicker, his rhythm different. He drags his finger out slowly, tortuously, only to pump it in fast, the contrast lighting Kyungsoo's gut aflame with tiny little sparks of arousal.

"Ah, is this why your showers always last so long?" Jongin whispers, tone teasing, lips trailing up and above Kyungsoo's cheeks to his reddening ears.

Kyungsoo panics at Jongin's question, tightening around the exploring finger sliding in and out of him. He breathes. How does Jongin know? Has he heard? Kyungsoo tries to think back to all the times he's touched himself in their tiny bathroom, the walls paper-thin, moaning Jongin's name with the shower running. He knows there's the possibility but he's been very careful, been very quiet. Kyungsoo's face burns with embarrassment. He opens his lips ready to deny the younger's claim but then Jongin pushes another finger in with the first and Kyungsoo forgets what he was going to say. This time, the fit is tighter, the slide in slower. Jongin moans right into Kyungsoo's ear, his breath hot, voice raspy.

"Tight," Jongin exhales. "How much tighter would it be later, hyung? When I fuck you with my cock?"

But Kyungsoo doesn't get to form a coherent reply because Jongin chooses that exact moment to crook his fingers just so, and the blunt of his fingertips press against Kyungsoo's prostate in a way Kyungsoo has never felt before. He's never been able to reach, the angle always too awkward and messy. But Jongin's fingers are long, thick and knows how to touch, knows how to slide out and give Kyungsoo time to breathe, only to slide in again and torture him deliciously, over and over and over again. Kyungsoo feels ready to snap, wound tight, thighs trembling as Jongin fucks him open with his fingers, readying him. When Jongin presses down a second longer than usual, Kyungsoo's whole body trembles, cock twitching on his stomach as precum dribbles down his navel. 

"My pretty hyung," Jongin whispers, breath hot against Kyungsoo's temple as he kisses all over. "I can make you come just like this. Just with my fingers. Would you like that?"

Kyungsoo panics, shakes his head no so vigorously his head spins, "No no no no no- oooh."

Kyungsoo's words cut off into a moan because Jongin suddenly speeds his fingers up, grin so infuriating that for the very first time, Kyungsoo truly genuinely feels annoyed at Kim Jongin. 

"No? Why no?" Jongin is teasing but his fingers are not, pumping in and out of Kyungsoo so hurriedly. It feels like a race and Jongin is competing. And then Jongin moves, lifts up and his fingers starts fucking Kyungsoo in earnest, with purpose, deliberate with each jab and each press as he milks Kyungsoo's prostate for all that he's worth. Kyungsoo shivers, writhes as he rides Jongin's fingers fucking into him, loud squelching noises echoing in the room. Kyungsoo wants to come, feels like he's about to come. The mounting pressure in his gut is rising so fast, spilling and burning him all over. The only thought keeping him holding on is the promise of Jongin's cock. Kyungsoo needs to behave. He was told. But Jongin is rough. His fingers, his lips, his breath on Kyungsoo's skin. Kyungsoo doesn't know what to do, doesn't know if the fire in him is enough to consume him and burn him into ash. He feels like he might explode. His toes curl and his thighs shake. He almost weeps.

"Jong- Jongin-" he wants to plead. "I'm-"

"Why, hyung?"

"P-please-"

And then Jongin is lifting himself up from him, his fingers sliding out of Kyungsoo completely and Kyungsoo breathes. And for a moment he feels dizzy, disoriented. Like he was deprived of air only now to breathe again, his senses coming back slowly but the fire in his gut still there. He opens his eyes to look, not even realizing he's closed them in between the intense pleasure. What Kyungsoo sees is Jongin kneeling above him, eyes impossibly dark, lips parted. He's sliding the condom down the length of his cock, gaze locked with Kyungsoo's as he rolls it down. It's an inappropriate time to feel self-conscious, naked on Jongin's bed with the younger's spit on his cock and lube smeared in and out of his ass, but Kyungsoo can't help the blush that blooms across his cheeks at weight of Jongin's gaze, hot and heavy.

"Stop looking," Kyungsoo tries, but there's no force behind his words. If anything, he sounds needy, a whine in his voice.

Jongin smiles down at him but his eyes remain dark, pupils blown. "Why not, hyung?" he questions, lathering himself with the remaining lube from his bottle, the empty tube he throws behind him where their clothes probably lay. "You looks so hot right now, you have no idea."

Kyungsoo's ears redden at Jongin's words. Another one of the younger's many compliments. And just like all the other times, Kyungsoo believes him, even though he has never thought of himself as close to anything remotely sexy, he believes him. It's hard not to when Jongin says it so sincerely, his eyes steady.

"C'mere," Kyungsoo calls, hands reaching. But Jongin doesn't return, instead his hands grab and pull Kyungsoo's thighs up, sliding his body pillow from the foot of his bed beneath Kyungsoo's hips. The incline is a little steep, but Jongin holds his thighs open and steady for him, leaving Kyungsoo feeling very very exposed. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed, however, because when he looks up, he sees Jongin bent over him, damp hair falling down and framing his beautiful face. There's a smirk on his lips, dangerous, and in the very next moment Kyungsoo feels the blunt head of Jongin's cock pressing down on his entrance, making him whine in anticipation for what's to come. Jongin doesn't make him wait long this time because he pushes in right after, the give of Kyungsoo's hole tight. When the head of Jongin's cock finally penetrates him, Kyungsoo's back arches up off the bed, his thighs involuntarily falling open wider, eyes closing so tight he sees white inside his vision. And then Jongin pushes through, feeding his cock into Kyungsoo gradually, tortuously. Kyungsoo feels each inch enter him, the hotness inside him hard and piercing. He feels full, fuller as Jongin pushes his cock in. Jongin kisses him through it, his lips soft and languid as he licks into Kyungsoo's willing mouth, his cock sliding inside Kyungsoo so deliciously slow it almost feels endless. 

When Jongin finally bottoms out, Kyungsoo is already breathless. Jongin is bigger than he anticipated, longer than he thought, thicker than he saw. His cock inside Kyungsoo feels heavy, like a weight holding Kyungsoo down to shore.

"You good?" Jongin rasps out, his voice strained, barely a whisper. Kyungsoo looks up to see Jongin look so focused, eyes hard. In the back of his mind, Kyungsoo knows Jongin asked him a question. "Hyung?"

"'M good," Kyungsoo tries to confirm but he doesn't know if he made the words out loud so he nods for good measure. 

Jongin must've understood because he begins to pull out the same way he pushed in, tortuously slow. But when he's reached the very end, the tip of his cock caught at the rim of Kyungsoo's hole, he pushes back in in one swift motion, fast and hard, the blunt head of his cock pressing right on Kyungsoo's prostate. It rips a moan out of Kyungsoo's lips, wanton and high pitched. He doesn't see stars but he feels lightning zip up his spine like fireworks, each thrust of Jongin's throbbing cock filling him up just the way he likes it, the way his fingers could never, over and over again. This is what he's wanted, what he's fantasized in the waking hours of the early mornings and dreamed about in the twilight of the evenings. Jongin above him, his broad frame eclipsing Kyungsoo's own as he fucks him into the mattress, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. Kyungsoo can only hold onto Jongin as his hips snap into him, as his cock fucks him. Just the sight alone, of Jongin above him, sweaty and breathing heavy, has the fire of arousal in Kyungsoo stir and spread. But it's not enough. Jongin continues to fuck into him in the that same rhythm, but his cock misses the spot that Kyungsoo needs him on. Kyungsoo feels full in each drive forward, but there's a need that burns through his gut, hot and insistent.

In a moment of pure flat out insanity, Kyungsoo pushes at Jongin, hands holding at the younger's arms to tell him, "Off, Jongin. I want-"

Bewildered, Jongin springs back in an instant, as if burned, his cock slipping out, a question on his lips. "Hyung, wha-"

But Kyungsoo is already scrambling on his knees on the bed, the space narrow and the mattress uncomfortable. He lowers his chest on the pillow below him, ass high up in the air, arms bracing himself in front of him. It's a position he would never be caught dead in in any other situation, nor in front of anybody else. But the time for shame is not now, Kyungsoo has decided. He might regret this tomorrow but right now, his needs far outweighs his logic so he looks back, eyes lidded, an invitation. "Jongin, please-" he whines, high and needy, the younger's eyes wide in surprise as he looks on. Despite the position, a light chuckle escapes Kyungsoo's lips but his message is clear.

For a second, Jongin seems rooted to the spot but then he too laughs, short and low in his chest, "Fuck, I thought-" he shakes his head, moving closer up the bed where Kyungsoo is presenting himself like an offering. His hands lands on the full globes of Kyungsoo's ass and squeezes, "God, hyung, you look so-" Jongin slaps a cheek red and sucks in a sharp breath, hands pulling Kyungsoo's ass cheeks open. The cool air on Kyungsoo's puckered entrance has goosebumps erupt on his skin all over.

"Jongin, I need-"

This time, Jongin understands him immediately, wasting no time as he pushes back into Kyungsoo, slow and steady. This time, the slide of his cock is easier and he doesn't wait for Kyungsoo to adjust. He just fucks him, hard and fast. Kyungsoo doesn't know what to do with his hands, as Jongin snaps his hips into him again and again and again, drilling into him faster than the last. Kyungsoo knows Jongin dances, even though he is yet to see him perform, but Kyungsoo thinks this is proof enough. Because each slide in of Jongin's cock drills him further and further up the bed, his knees shaking from both the force and the pleasure pooling up and over his whole body. The new position has Jongin's cock reaching in deeper, and when he angles his thrusts just so, the blunt head of his hard cock presses on Kyungsoo's prostate again and again, unrelenting and unforgiving. Kyungsoo can barely think, can barely even speak. All he can do is moan silently into the mattress beneath him. He feels so out of touch with his own body, so out of reach of his own voice, the tide of arousal sweeping over him up and under as Jongin fucks him open hard and fast and good.

"Why are you so silent?" Jongin mouths at the back of his neck.

Kyungsoo has no power to dignify Jongin with an answer. All the blood in his body focused to the aching cock hanging below him. As if reading his mind, Jongin drapes himself over Kyungsoo's back, the hard planes of his chest pressing against Kyungsoo's soft skin. He snakes a hand under them and grips Kyungsoo's leaking cock in his hand, palm warm and calloused but tender as he tugs and strokes, thumb rubbing right at the underside of the head, knowing right where to touch and make Kyungsoo scream. And Kyungsoo screams, not long and suffering, but the kind that rips from his chest from the pleasure steadily building like high pressure all over him.

"Fuck, hyung, you're so fucking tight," Jongin's voice breathes right into the shell of his ear. "You have no idea."

Kyungsoo has no idea. He has no idea because all he can do is lay there on his knees as Jongin fucks his cock into him. It's like a daydream and a dream. It feels surreal. His arousal stings as it licks at him like burning flames. He's breathing heavy, eyes drifting between closed and lidded, almost blurry. His moans are muffled by Jongin's sheets. He must be drooling. It's probably not a pretty sight but he doesn't care. He pushes back, riding Jongin's cock, almost delirious. Kyungsoo feels so good. Jongin is so good. God. Why hadn't Kyungsoo jumped him before. It almost feels like a crime, Kyungsoo hoping and harboring his silly crush when he could be having this dick everyday if only he wasn't a coward.

"What'd you say?" the question brings him back. 

What did he say? Kyungsoo doesn't know what he said.

"You're close? You're gonna come? You gonna come for me hyung?" 

It's like a reminder. Just like that, Kyungsoo's senses come back all at once. Jongin's hand stroking his cock, Jongin pressing kisses up and down the back of his neck and all over his shoulders, nipping and licking and sucking as he moves along what his tongue traces. But more importantly is Jongin's thick cock, hard and hot as it fucks into him, the sound of his hips meeting Kyungsoo's own loud and vulgar in the otherwise quiet night. Belatedly, Kyungsoo wonders if their walls are thick enough. But he doesn't get to finish his train of thought because in that moment, Jongin decides to pull his hips up, lifting Kyungsoo's body like its nothing up the mattress. Kyungsoo's arms goes up to brace himself, his knees almost up and off the bed as Jongin bends him, pushes and starts fucking him shallowly in quick succession, his cock barely leaving Kyungsoo's tight heat, but each push forward hitting Kyungsoo's prostate again and again and again. Kyungsoo's eyes screws shut at the intense pleasure, the steady build of pressure he has been feeling all over his body now rising up and above where he's capable of reigning it in.

"You close?" Jongin rasps out as his cock pistons in and out of Kyungsoo mercilessly. "Because I'm close. So close-"

Kyungsoo's orgasm doesn't come as a surprise. Jongin's continuous onslaught all over his body in every way possible makes it inevitable. When Kyungsoo comes, his whole body feels like its been dropped in the molten sea of pleasure he was feeling, engulfing him in it's fiery flames. His body bows, back arching as his hips stutter and freeze. He moans deep from the back of his throat, almost hoarse even though he hasn't been screaming. Jongin milks his cock through it, come landing below him on Jongin's sheets. And in a second he feels boneless, floating. Jongin slips out of him as he rolls him over on his back, landing on his own cum but feeling too blissful to care. Jongin scoots up the bed to his chest, thighs straddling him where he kneels over his face, cock in his hand as he stares down at Kyungsoo, eyes dark and lips bitten, his hand working over his cock furiously, soft breathy exhales leaving his lips until his whole body seizes up and he comes, thick white ropes that lands all over Kyungsoo's neck and chest.

"Pretty," Jongin breathes his compliment so easily. "My pretty hyung."

Kyungsoo doesn't know if he should say something as Jongin cups his cheek tenderly in the palm of his hand. He doesn't even know if he is capable of saying anything at all. Above him, he can see Jongin's mouth moving but his eyelids feel heavy. He feels the bed dip and then the warmth of Jongin's body is gone. He claws at air but his hands fall back down. He's too tired.

He tries to wait for the younger to come back, staring up at the dancing yellow lights on the ceiling, steadying his breathing, feeling sticky and sweaty. He cranes his neck to the bathroom. He wants to tell Jongin the goods were of good quality and that he was buying but before he can articulate the thought properly in his head, mind still swimming, his body wins over his will as his eyes flutter shut.

The last thing he remembers before he falls asleep is the smell of citrus soap and warm cloth on his skin.

Kyungsoo comes to sometime around midnight, he isn't sure, but the sky outside is already dark and Seoul's night lights are in full view. He's still tired, still sleepy, body sore and heavy. He looks around in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he notices is that he's on his bed, wearing one of Jongin's impossibly soft sweaters and a new pair of boxer briefs. Across him, Jongin's bed is stripped off of its sheets, the younger's pillow on the bed beside him. 

He squints, searching until his eyes finally land on Jongin by the window, the long line of his body a mere outline of a shadow by their flimsy curtain. He's talking on his phone, the first time Kyungsoo has seen him do so.

"I already told you, mum," Jongin is saying, a hint of playful frustration in his tone . "Monggu hates that brand. Yes, I know. You can give the whole bag to Arthur. No mum, Arthur is the one who orders the pasties every Tuesday. That one is John. Mum! Arthur and John look nothing alike!"

Jongin laughs and then huffs, scolding his mother over the phone, but he sounds bright, happy. Kyungsoo can hear the smile in his voice. 

"Yes, yes I'm doing good mum. No, it's okay. I understand. I was just about to go to sleep anyway. But please buy Monggu the proper dog food next time, yeah? I left you a list of things to remember. I tacked it to the fridge by your numbers."

Kyungsoo can make out Jongin's silhouette moving in the dark. He's tracing patterns on the windows, drawing on the glass with his fingers. He's fidgeting, Kyungsoo can tell.

"Yes, mum. I'll call you later when I wake up. I promise." 

He pauses, listening. But then cuts in right after-

"No, mum, please. Please don't cry. I haven't forgotten you. I promise, yeah?" Jongin sounds softer, almost choked up. "I'll call you every day like I said I would. I promise."

He hesitates, and then adds,

"Oh and mum? ...I miss you."

Kyungsoo smiles.

Kyungsoo wasn't planning on buying it.

When Jongin dragged Kyungsoo to Hidden Books a week ago, Kyungsoo spent the better part of the three hours they spent inside flipping through old magazines by the cashier. While Jongin scourged the whole place choosing a new book to read to help him improve his Korean reading comprehension, Kyungsoo entertained himself by looking at colorful book covers and interesting magazine spreads. That's where he saw it.

The title of the book is The Korean Diaspora: A Sourcebook. The book looks new for a secondhand bookstore, a little out of place but it seemed fitting somehow, given the context. Kyungsoo only picked it up because the cover was a pretty picture of a mountain set on a gorgeous gradient sky backdrop as the sun sets. He flipped through the book and set it down a few minutes after. It was too wordy for him and nothing of particular interest.

It's in his hands now, wrapped in a brown paper bag. He paid a month's worth of drinks budget for it, the price steeper than he anticipated.

Kyungsoo hopes Jongin likes it.

On the inside flap, he wrote:

_Jongin,_

_This is for you. The noona at Hidden Books said it's a collection of materials about Korean identity for those who migrated or grew up abroad. There's even a section that reviews government policies for Koreans overseas. A mixture of socio-political readings that I'm sure you'll love._

_I know this book isn't the answer to all of your questions, but I hope you find solace in the fact that you are not alone._

_We're still young, Kim Jongin. We're just starting. We have our whole life ahead of us to figure things out :)_

_\- Kyungsoo_

_PS: Gwangju is beautiful during summer. Do you want to go back home with me?_

It's Friday night. The commons is deserted, everyone within the university's vicinity celebrating the end of midterms out in Hongdae or Itaewon. Kyungsoo finds himself in neither places as he walks along the corridor to his apartment on the 5th floor, the brightly lit walls and CCTV camera lights blinking at him as he passes by.

Kyungsoo fishes his key card from his pocket as he arrives in front of his door, trying to balance the grocery bags he has in his arms. They're heavy, two week's worth of food cramped into two large brown bags.

A beep signals the door opening as it swings, Kyungsoo waddles inside to toe off his converse shoes by the door while simultaneously reaching to the wall to slot his card in for power which means Jongin isn't back yet from dance practice. Kyungsoo cranes his neck at the wall clock they have on the far side of the room, squinting to see the hands saying it's almost 10 o'clock. Weird. Baekhyun said they'll be finished by 9.

Jongin has recently joined Yonsei's HARIE, a street dance club that focuses on hip hop but also incorporates other modern dance styles into their routines. It's the equivalent of KCL or UCL's Dance Societies, clubs Jongin wanted to join had he stayed at Berkhamsted and chosen to attend university in London. Jongin was hesitant to join at first, shy and not good with new people but he was determined to try with Kyungsoo's enthusiastic encouragement. The first time he came back from practice, sweaty and tired in the middle of the night, he went straight to wake Kyungsoo up from his nap and kissed him senseless. When Kyungsoo was finally able to push the younger away to ask him how practice went, he saw that Jongin's eyes were shining with barely-held excitement. Jongin looked so happy and so alive that they ended staying up all night, talking and giggling and eating cheap delivery pizza from Pizza School, exchanging stories and senseless anecdotes from when they were younger, dreaming of illustrious careers in singing or dance.

With his card keyed in and the door shut close behind him, shoes to his left and the lights on, Kyungsoo brings the heavy bags of groceries to the kitchen counter and on the same step, throws his backpack on his desk by his Pororo lamp that Jongin bought for him two months ago.

The studio apartment they share is small, truly fit for a student's budget, with its plain white walls and drab ceiling, the kitchen counter so narrow Kyungsoo can barely cook more than one dish at a time. But they make do. They bought a nice dark curtain to replace the flimsy checkered one that came with the apartment. They also got themselves matching black sheets and pillows trimmed with white and gray from the same shop. For their walls, Jongin bought a bunch of old magazines from Hidden Books and they spent an afternoon together picking nice photos to frame and hang. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo bought a bunch of plastic glow-in-the-dark star stickers from Daiso which Jongin arranged into beautiful constellation patterns up on their ceiling. Kyungsoo also took the initiative to buy kitchen utensils so he can start cooking homemade meals, their fridge stocked with produce and fruits. The one shelf on top of their stove is now full of packs of assorted ramyuns and the one stray canned beans. To the side are bottles of sesame oil and gochujang, HP Sauce and corn syrup, an egg cup and a barely eaten jar of marmite. It's not much, but the apartment looks more alive, looks more lived in. Kyungsoo likes it.

Speaking of which, Kyungsoo looks at their calendar to check when Jongin has to pick up the bookshelf they bought online and sees that it's Jongin's turn to water Freddo. He walks to their window to check if Jongin already did only for him to stop a foot away. Kyungsoo blinks, hand immediately reaching for his phone in his pocket to call Jongin.

"Hey, baby," Jongin greets him after the first ring. Kyungsoo hears nothing in the background. Is he still at the studio?

"Uh, what time are you coming home?" Kyungsoo should be used to it by now, but he guess he still isn't.

"In a few. Why? Do you need anything from 7 Eleven?" Jongin asks. Kyungsoo hears a ding.

"No, no. But, are you near?" Kyungsoo is impatient, he knows this now.

"Yeah, why? Are you okay?" Jongin seems concerned now. "What's wrong, hyung?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong, just-" Kyungsoo swallows, taking the few remaining steps to their window where Freddo is sitting on the sill. His flowers have finally fully bloomed today. They're pink and they look like daises, just like the shopkeeper ahjussi told them. But that's not what sets Kyungsoo's heart thumping like drum beats in his chest, the sound of it loud and booming in his own ears. "How near are you?"

"Very, why?" Jongin asks again.

Kyungsoo traces Freddo's beautiful flowers with a finger, his touch light. And then he looks at Jongin's ipad right beside the small cactus where an exact replica of the mamillaria is left open on its bright screen. Jongin drew Freddo in his small brown pot with his prickly spikes and pretty pink flowers in full bloom. It's not a painting on a canvas like Kyungsoo's father would have done, but then again, Freddo is not a bouquet of spring flowers either. But it's close. Kyungsoo doesn't know if he should laugh or if he should cry. How does Jongin remember every little thing he says anyway? Even the ones he's only mentioned in passing?

"Hyung? You there?" Jongin's voice takes him out of his reverie. "I'm almost there. Like a second away-"

"Yeah, I-" Kyungsoo wanted to touch and trace the flowers on Jongin's drawing too, forgetting that it's a screen. What he ends up doing is swiping across the younger's gallery, all of Jongin's drawings on Procreate appearing on the screen, available for Kyungsoo to see. Jongin and him share almost everything. Kyungsoo sometimes uses Jongin's macbook to edit videos and presentations for classes but Kyungsoo has never gone through Jongin's ipad, the device always with the younger. Today is the first time he's seeing it open. What Kyungsoo sees are sketches of himself, sitting down on their table at Mago's, the fake potted plant behind him. Sometimes he has a steaming mug in front of him, sometimes he has a cold cup with bobba pearls at the bottom. His clothes are different in each one. He swipes down, looking at the dates. May, April, March, February.

Has it really been that long?

Behind him, the melodious ding-ding-ding of the door signals Jongin's arrival.

"Hyung, I'm home!" Jongin greets as he steps inside, his stupidly beautiful smile in place, hair damp and falling down his bright chocolate eyes. He's wearing the white shirt Kyungsoo bought him last week at Myeongdong. He looks good. Standing there just inside their door, taking his shoes off on the mat with his phone in his hands, their call still connected – Kyungsoo feels extreme fondness wash over him for this beautiful boy who draws him in secret. It's been months and yet Kim Jongin stills takes Kyungsoo's breath away. How terribly cliche.

Kyungsoo looks around him. Their apartment may be small, but from Jongin's cluttered desk, shelves full of second hand books, to Kyungsoo's bed piled with their clean laundry Jongin is yet to fold, to the assorted bits and bobs on their dining table and of course, to little Freddo and his beautiful pink flowers sitting on their window sill, chilling and living – it looks and feels like home.

"Hey, Jongin," Kyungsoo greets back, his heart truly happy and full. For the very first time, he says:

"Welcome home."

**Author's Note:**

> ** the original prompt was: _'Jongin surprising Kyungsoo with flowers and dinner at his favourite restaurant after telling him he was sad about not having a Valentines date.'_
> 
> ** here's a [custom google map](http://bit.ly/2lOnblm) labeled with all the places mentioned
> 
> ** extras:  
[berkhamsted](http://bit.ly/2kbfRzR), [living in berko](http://bit.ly/2kc9GM5), [ashridge](http://bit.ly/2kfjdSA), [bluebells](http://bit.ly/2kgwomi), [ashlyns](http://bit.ly/2lOM9RC), [berkhamsted boys](http://bit.ly/2lJKwEW), [the rex](http://bit.ly/2kGKKwh), [the gatsby](http://bit.ly/2kfhnBa)  
[walk around berkhamsted](http://bit.ly/2kuzVO5), [quick info about berko](http://bit.ly/2mcc325), [queen visits berkhamsted boys school](http://bit.ly/2kGdpBJ), [berkhamsted ducks](http://bit.ly/2mee4e8)  
[namdaemun market](http://bit.ly/2krWEdz), [hidden flower](http://bit.ly/2m9tfVP) [shops](http://bit.ly/2lIOrC0), [kalchi alley & kimchi mandu](http://bit.ly/2kglXPE), [joongang sikdang](http://bit.ly/2mdZNOA)  
[tangsuyuk](http://bit.ly/2k95EUy), [gusto taco](http://bit.ly/2m9kYkJ), [freddos](http://bit.ly/2kuxbQM), [chocolate frogs](http://bit.ly/2k7g07o), [pororo milk candy](http://bit.ly/2kE2dpf), [hite](http://bit.ly/2mcXpro), [pg tips](http://bit.ly/2lM5ItV), [hp sauce](http://bit.ly/2m6oNXP)  
[pororo animation](http://bit.ly/2lOAL8i), [royal wedding plate](http://bit.ly/2kEncIv), [hidden books](http://bit.ly/2kbGR2d), [galaxy by bol4](http://bit.ly/2kbQXjE), [procreate on ipad](http://bit.ly/2kEZX0Y), [gay bars in itaewon](http://bit.ly/2lODOgM), [mammillaria](http://bit.ly/2m88U37), [harie](http://bit.ly/2mciQJ7)  
[looper](http://bit.ly/2kGAap0), [shawshank redemption](http://bit.ly/2kaWhnl), [shutter island](http://bit.ly/2m3Qalk), [maleficent](http://bit.ly/2mcJrpt), [chernobyl](http://bit.ly/2k9Bh0g)  
[black day celebration](http://bit.ly/2mdMUEd), [14th of every month celebrations](http://bit.ly/2kFYwzl), [student housing in seoul](http://bit.ly/2nIWuzS)  
[new malden](http://bit.ly/2lQbCdm), [koreans in the uk](http://bit.ly/2lILfGw), [koreans in london](http://bit.ly/2kf858j), [growing up korean-british](http://bit.ly/2lKVSZg), [korean diaspora sourcebook](https://amzn.to/2kf8wiN), [third culture kids](http://bit.ly/2lT0U6y)  
[ji hometown](http://bit.ly/2mboSd0), [height difference](http://bit.ly/2lJ17ZC), [mint](http://bit.ly/2kcejFQ) [choco](http://bit.ly/2kEmevK), [ji frames](http://bit.ly/2kHyKuD), [kd flowers](http://bit.ly/2m9HHNz), [pink sweater](http://bit.ly/2m4mIM2), [latte](http://bit.ly/2kH54O2), [childish/bratty cute ks according to ji](http://bit.ly/2kBvtNw)
> 
> ** i made jongin british because of how the prompter spelled 'favourite' :)  
** this fic is sadly not sponsored by apple :(
> 
> please leave a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed it (or even if you didn't haha). feedback is always appreciated, thank you! <3


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